A pressed fist to throat when I feel alone, and gag
A click, a wish: nothing but the best for you
A pressed pair of lips to shoulder blades, and prayers
A cut, riven lip: punched almost as afterthought
For the hours it cost, on the cold, dirty floor
Of a gas station bathroom
Pulling grass from your backyard
A song you didn’t even notice I sang
To yourself, yourself the saved
A traitorous pause at the wrong place in the park
For the punch and the teeth, she hit me,
With escaping leaves, smothered on bare legs
A set of brought flowers, and a kiss
A taste, where the click is heard aloud
Where the words don’t really matter
But we wish to say them anyhow.
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