You kissed me like how you eat
apples with mundanity and matte eyes.
Your bra clasp is a cracked wishbone
held by a child’s birthday prayer.
The last time you kissed me,
I dissipated into smoke and leaves.
You assembled me as an apparition
like a breathless wish upon a star.
But, from your fingers grew feathers,
and you flew away from my love.
I’ll be the picket fence of your life.
I’ll be the dog trapped under it, too.
I am running in circles to catch my tail,
in an attempt to eat the world whole.
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