re:

I’m folding our last good memory in an envelope,
and there’s this imperceptible shift from longing to anger,
clotting and breaking like cuts on my knuckles.

I hate the way I disappear inside the fantasy of our lips,
our tangled hearts,
our promises and memories.

I’m taking a deep breath for what seems like the first time,
remembering how the rest of the world went dark
as we stood on a corner and kissed to our future,
a perfect fucking mess.

Do you still want this?