Change of Heart

Your kisses taste teal,
like an exhausted cigarette,
posing with ashes
and a line of smoke.
Your words sound grey,
heavy in the coffee table,
weighing down the persian rug
they attach to the floor.
Your tongue -dead pink-,
moves like high speed clouds
interrupting voices from the news,
thickening vibrations in the air.
Its good that its over.
There is nothing I regret.
Home is still home,
summer is still summer.
I just don’t understand
where you were then,
and who you are now.
I just don’t understand
how I am played out
of the equation.
How it hurts me,
bothers me,
uncomforts me,
to be in this skin.
This skin I love
so much at times.
This skin I breathe in.
I wanted us
to tangle
and roll
and grow.
I want me
to disentangle.
I want me
to evolve.
Then there was light,
and then there was nothing.
They existed like microbes,
empty vessels in each other’s mind.

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