Love is a Postcard to a Childhood Friend

Regenerate skin, grating teeth under peeled layers- fleshy decay, latex and sweat;

this place where you thought you’d find love.

Make up a story where debris floats in lucid dreams you wish to sleep off, lost your dignity long enough -the seconds of release.

Feel bliss for the moment, fleeting sheen of penetration, sure to become a lost memory- and that’s good.

You don’t want to remember these single minutes– shallow moments. They swallow you whole.

The day after, tile and sediment- so much to wash clean- won’t mimic corrosion, just waxy, smooth and slick. You retain every last breath, every caress- the exhalation of each pore.

The expense of love, defeated you long enough to run.

Inside the curtain the water runs cold no matter what the steam says, and the indifference won’t allow a single lesson to be learned.

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