Monday, December 14, 2015

You exploded like a firework in my palm

too fast, too bright
headlights flashing
behind our eyes,
we collided.

I've heard people say
I open up too easily.
apparently, this is not
limited to my mouth-
your fingers dancing across
the backs of my thighs, hands
touching everything at once,
breakneck speed, curled up
in your jacket the next morning,
watching for you from the
window like the distressed
damsel I am.

your jacket doesn't smell like you
anymore.

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