Blunt
Sometimes when it’s blunt
it’s best
I could
-perhaps.
The softness calls
There are voices in
the thin night.
Chemical smiles
and metallic skin.
What a taste we are.
I could
-perhaps;
misted,
dewed,
waking.
Comatose in her head.
She feels the nothing.
It feels like cold silk
on her cold skin.
Liquorice kisses
and the bones and skin.
What a waste we are.
I could
-perhaps
protect you.
LDeM
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