[i felt you like the silence at the end of a scream]


i felt you like the silence at the end of a scream
no echoing reverberation, just a damp sick stillness
that festers unsaid accusations, mold beneath your
tongue, distilled hatred to be put up on the ledge
where i sit nightly weighing intent and means, what
i’ve lost. what you now don’t know you’ve lost.
the precision of words like a dropper over a slide,
they teem like a virus and can kill you in the space
of a sentence. i opened up your throat to see what
you had to say and found nothing worth the salt
from the corners of my eyes. we’ll not speak of this
ever again.

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