Dear,

the truth is should i think about that night it’s dead weight in my mind

i can’t extract the words you said the way they singed inside my head, or how it ushered in the rest and yet, the closer that i get the more it swelters in my chest

sharpened between lash and lid i saw not eyes but where they’d lived and then revived now cobalt knives and if the divide was yours or mine i can’t decide or if it bore from gutted skin sheathed beneath the narratives you spin

what’s left still remains unsaid between dampened discourse we’ve embed a rooted ache, our wounds not only bleed the same they can neither be erased even if we stitch each other in their place

so it wasn’t you or me, we chose only who we wanted to see ourselves      - but clearer the muse and the mirror until inevitably it splintered away too

the truth is; you’re right

i lied

and so did you.

just as a flame’s flicker differs with each lick so too the shivers delivered with each press of lips on flesh and silken skin,

mine entwine with cobalt eyes, freckled with rays of golden lines, and i let out a carnal requiem for reticence,

flushed and spent i’m left freed of linen and restraint, to lay bare in truth

i’m not sure if it’s actually you

or displaced emotion

and I can’t tell if it’s new

or if it’s been bottled up

and spilling over

it just scares me

to feel

this heartbroken

and profoundly alone

at this time

i found it in rosy cheeks against a sharp late autumn breeze, in skin that crisped instead with heat, as you spoke  to me, i heard it wedged in slanted reminisce in words that might’ve wished for this, in secret spite of she, i felt it - thrice on summer nights, cloaked in pulsing crooked stripes of moonlit windows’ angled light, not once  though have you used your tongue, in time to face or trace my own, and i fear, i’ve left  too much wasted space to wait, for another time and  place.

we met when life was gusting growth from every static crevice, thieving truths i’d come to know                disfiguring            my senses, but -                      with you            i learned,            in time            i loved,

and so i took root in hues of blue to savor the stillness i’d found in the end, content wasn’t meant to be kept, and soon enough my colours bled

while now i believe it was you finding me

i was never the one you were searching for

tell me, what can i do to make room in my head, or rather      less, for memories attached at frayed outer edges for faint misconceptions of you as my friend i’ve swallowed regrets when they lump in my neck but can’t choke down the thought of your hands there instead~

i wasn’t naive provoking teeth to trace a heart from either side

nor was it shame that sliced my breath with lips and tongue that curve my spine

it wasn’t need that clenched the sheets and let you slip inside

but oh, i know of several ways i’d waste a rainy day with you

The last three years now have been intensely transformational. Early 2014 prepared me spiritually to embrace the events that would mark the end of a life I knew. 2015 was largely internal work as I deconstructed and reconstructed everything I understood about myself and my world. And now, through 2016 I've seen this evolution reflected in my outer life.