Our Demise

Picture courtesy of flickr


His eyes are wide with smiles, and I wonder how I am so lucky.


I ask him what he sees in me.

He simply replies, “What others do not.”


It is late one night when I say, “You feel like home.”


He tells me that I am beautiful today

and kisses me on the forehead.

My skin enters into a waltz I cannot control

but have no desire to wish away.


I tell him he is my future, and he replies, “I’m okay with that.”


He stares at me quietly

and I feel the minutes wind

around my lungs and loop

themselves into a tingling hello

that precedes the words, “I love you.”

My insides do somersaults for days.


Everything is perfect until it is not.


I ask him to open up to me,

but he keeps me in the dark.

Once again I hold his hand,

but I know I don’t have his heart.


His fingertips pull away, and I beg for them to come back.


I catch him in a lie again and he knows

to say, “I’m sorry,” but he says nothing more.


His eyes are wide with miles, and I wait for goodbye.

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