stubborn stories bit their tongues. sour promises were left to rot.
small lies grew obese.
lifetimes expired. as flesh clung to buried corpses.
we're reckless with this bodies. because intimacy demands it.
the night tastes of fruit that must be picked. the distance reeks of loyalties misspent.
quietly is how the world ends.
time swallowed those lovers. and spit them out as strangers.
nothing is so seductive as what might have been.