Angry, razor-winged butterflies slice
In panicked arcs round my tender insides
This is no beautiful love
It is night sweat terror
And loss of blood in bathroom stalls
It’s the parallel tracks
Running against the grain of skin.
This is no patient love.
Second guesses and words unretractable.
Sharpened blades offer short-lived respite
to permanent real estate on my body
A place I can trace over when I miss you
This is no kind love
How did they cross my lips?
Treacherous words. Frantic and transparent waves slipping through anonymity.
As if I misplaced the filter; careful years in the making, and
Gave you the warm blood of my heart, without request.
This is no courageous love.
Food on my tongue feels
Like an affair.
When only your attention satiates.
Only your words complete.
Dying inside from misplaced memories and impetuous revelations.
This is no easy love.