you breathe like an accordion, shuddering, your body emptying, because you
hate knowing he’s the sun to your icarus, feel the wax dripping, and
the sensation is a wisp of smoke you won’t find this
way and you’re a moth drawn to this flame, but you know
that you’re also a black hole, the darkness in
smiles submerging all light, and this, you can’t let this go, he
can –will- hurt you but you’ll close your eyes, and you
burn because you know this won’t matter.
