these days are not told often enough that they are beautiful.
I wish I could love you as you should be loved,
but I can’t walk alongside such perfection as you.
Even when teetering on stilettos and with face caked in paint,
your soft voice curls around my body as I wish
to curl around you.
Today I saw you checking the glass to fix your hair,
but I know you were really checking to see if you
were still there.
Wrapped up in a blanket on your bed,
your invisible opiate bruise stays nestled
in the hollow of your neck.
If only I could undo you
untangle the leash you spun yourself into
and kiss you blind–
Galvanizing bodies, sunrise burst
in fragments
we break through polluted flesh with full resonance
my hands slide
down carved shoulders, for you are beautiful,
and I, only a blunder in vented perfection.


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