kill your lover so you’ll always have their ghost

gaping spaces bleached with sun

and ice in paper cups

drizzled with fake fruit

far too sweet.

you were my companion,

but the theater was closed.

four hundred and fifty stairs to the top,

to nothing

but empty rooms

waiting to be filled with sighs.

river plants hanging low

tried to stop the boat,

and if we weren’t careful

the sky would swallow us whole.

lines burned into my back

made my eyes heavy,

made me want to sleep in dark

air conditioned bedrooms

where we could build secret worlds

and live there alone together.

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