from the mouth of the cave

1 Jun

everything was cheap sugar then

not the fine pine sap

from the tree

we planted together

not the carefully curated

drops of

honeysuckle

clinging to my face

not the stalk of sugar cane

you cut down yourself

but instead

cloying sweetness

stuck to my teeth

pink tacky candy

someone’s leftovers

nobody’s charming

gift

i eat it anyway

chew it into words

with such force that i

find myself spitting

fuck this

onto the sidewalk

where someone carved a heart

in 1982

staggering to the place

where tender roots

held hands with

soil

watered by

no one’s tears

pruned by the wind

i bury

our fiction

at

sundown

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