Busted Lip

You are the soul of my soul.
Your movements capture me, stop me
dead in the hallway. Where our lies and our
truths intersect, so do our eyes. Nothing you have done
will ever affect me the same as it did when you existed
to me, when you were visible, audible, intelligible.
You want to come back, to be a concrete human being,
but you fail. Deciphering who is at fault is as
clear as where you end and I begin
when we lay on the bed.
We mesh and blend; we rise. We erupt together.
The breakdown is bittersweet.
The salt of tears.
The sweetness of blood from broken skin.
The pleasure of my pain.

Busted Lip

allie satterwhite

Kansas City, United States

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