Dante Competition: 2nd Place

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.

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