day two

water, gushing out words like silver needles on my chest, all the thoughts i contain, that i’ve kept, running down my skin now. moist their touch, like the absence, the tearful longing, of love; drops transparent on my neck, unlike my dreams, unlike my smiles, but still watery they run, they flow, they turn to gold, then burn: charcoal dark my brow creases under their load, skin like paper, they leave a trace as indelible, as fatally inedible, as ink.

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