Much in the way a single waterdrop is never entirely responsible for a flood, we were complicit in each other’s destruction.
It was 3:42 am and neither one of us had any sleep. You were sitting on our bed. Taking all your leather off and pointing out the parts that have been waiting for my teeth marks. I let my hair loose beside my ears and refused. I asked you to go to sleep.You let out a smile we both knew you didn’t mean.
That night I learned that I am driven by two things: fear and desire.
I liked my poems quiet and I liked my love that way too, but you never quite understood that.
And it didn’t help at all that I found no world beyond this bed—beyond you.
Was I heavy on your chest the way you were on mine?
You liked your films black and white and you liked your love that way too.
Because you were greedy.
Because you wanted every color for yourself.
You made me sick but I swallowed until I was convulsing.
You had motion sickness while standing completely still around me.
We both knew you needed the aftertaste of water after you tasted the ashes of me.
You stacked my spine in between yours and we leaned against them for support but you moved too soon, too sudden that we started to collapse upon ourselves like dying stars.
Photo credit: Jay Mantri