II

I'd latched onto you the way that the sun glances
at the moon without moving its eyes away.
You'd branded me to fit in the gap
between the space beneath your jaw.

And I'd been like a sweater you wore
but then later doffed.
So then I'd linger on the edge of your bed;
Forgotten until "I need you," you'd said.

And once, my love burned very bright.
I allowed you into the spaces between the lines of my palms,
And I'd allowed you to stitch storms into my thighs.
I'd told myself that I could feel nothing.
My ribcage sometimes says otherwise...

And now, I bury the pieces of your broken love,
I no longer quite believe you loved me.
Instead I wash the proof of my fragility from beneath my fingernails,
Because you've burdened me—

And when your body snaps forward like a bowstring,
when you shoot towards my sun, that always sets on my mouth,
Silently, I hope you'd miss.
Instead I'd have taken you into my arms,
So you'd think that I still crave the taste of your tongue.

But I would cut it out if I could. I would hurt you.
Like you stripped my skin to the bone,
And like you lacerated my heart;
Leaving me an empty hole