On the tops of valleys where the clouds can taste the ground.

Where the muscles in my fingers rip and repair.

I've let streetlights become my rivers at night,

I inhaled the idyllic.

Placing parts of the sun in each one,

And I was privileged to collide with her lips.

I feel like others can,

Maybe they see a mountain peak through my irises,

Somewhere along the horizon as they look deeper,

Maybe the throat rumbles,

Maybe the eyes erupt,

Even so,

I feel dormant.

To muffle the sound when I speak your name.

But behind the words,

It was.

Now the cigarettes are a little bit harsher,

And the hangovers hurt a little bit more.

I suppressed you,

Because if I didn't,

The memories will become too loud.

Each dimple is a memory that relapse,

Thoughts travelling quicker than light,

A speech to savour the moment,

And let out this past.

I place shame in shot glasses,

And disinfect myself.

In backyards and beer cups,

Whistling our lives away,

Like we never could have done better,

These stoic ways became ambiguous,

And we've conformed to our own betrayal.

I watch it separate,

And allowed it to bleed.

Something I wish they would force me to drown in,

Maybe something I should do,

The reflection can't remember the faces,

Just the familiarity,

A feeling that overflows inside of me,

And struggles to leak through.