Citrus Kiss

you hate me
though you wait up,
you wake up
“what’s up?” you say
“besides that thing
jabbing my side”
and we’re laughing
simultaneously unraveling,
heinously scrabbling,
dragging along the gravel
with scabs on our palms
and this one in
a million of songs
plays in the morning
where snare drums
are thrumming,
forming my mourning,
nothing more than
an ornament adorning
the sound track for running away
and never coming back
like a being of light
led astray
into the black
of night

sitting on charcoal thrones
made of grey, graphite bones
where scattered teeth are like pebbles
sown into bitten, unsettled flesh
pulled like shards of shattered stones
from life’s leveled monotones

death owns breath
eye’s of windows,
cleft heartbeats,
and homes of minds left
behind abreast
of the unknown

release me ’fore I snap
like twigs in the rocky cracks of creeks
let me leak into the crease
of time and space

would you miss me then
incisor sink your smile
into a lime slice
and kiss me again?

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