our love was a pipe bomb
and baby, you were a lit fuse.

your words incarcerate,
separate,
saturate...
soaking in flammable material.
the sparks from the flip of a switch,
the snap of your fingers,
have set it all ablaze.

trapped
scurrying
from corner
to corner

to corner


a fate inferno--
my fate.
i faintly remember a porcelain face,
a perfect kiss,
a crashing ocean...
a muse...

an imagined, prosthetic romance,
rusted out and useless.
a burning, horrific lie.
i found out too late.

NB @ 4:04 PM

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