Every few years,
Like an eclipse,
I see you once.
And every time,
Just like the moon,
You sink in me.
I blur the edges of your name
And watch her fake a smile,
And with my anger, proceed to bury them all.
The vastness of the hall, the resonance of empty chairs,
The grimace just before her voice breaks,
And in the hollow of her black you peek,
A punctured soul billowing in the light.
You come and load me with the guilt of the jasmine
And leave like an empty street with no name.
Flattened I sat in front of you
Picking my slivers from between your teeth,
Putting out the fire for the last time
Before you leave.
Flattened I sat against the sky
Scraping my smile off smeared walls,
Piecing it for you, upside down.
Flattened I faded before your eyes
A hundred years in one,
And in every year I invented myself,
Again, just for your pride.
Flattened, from beneath the table,
I looked up at you soaring above your skin
Claiming the stars like you just spat them;
And I wondered why, while crunching the moon,
You sounded like an angel choking
On broken glass?