We can’t coexist
when your bones kiss my thoughts softly
and only whisper lies that my selfish ears wish to hear.
Butterfly knives are buried beneath my thighs
begging me to forget what I know
and to learn how to walk again.
You sharpen your shoulder blades to stab me in the back
and fasten your fingertips firmly around my spine.
There’s something absolutely elegant about the way your lips
tremble
under pressure
and the way your eyes
wander
further and further from the spot where they met mine.
There’s a certain type of beauty in betrayal,
you just have to be blind to see it.
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