We move in circles 

inside a doom spiral,

two kids playing God 

breaking each other in synchronous melodies.

There is wrath spreading it's wings over your mulberry kisses

and a magnificent laziness layered over the stolen hours in our favorite cafe. 

Hold my poem in your hand 

just like a newborn with toothless smile, 

Pick my tears like wild berries

and savor it in an evening 

while you watch the blue sky 

Turn to a cynical pink 

Drape your breath over my 

Shoulder bone 

Your blue worries knitting floral patterns on it.

Feed me the red yolks of eggs while I invoke the ghost, living rent free in your right ventricle,

and then we three will play 

Hide and seek. 

Clean me like a stained crucifix laying forgotten inside a nameless medieval church, 

Chanting every prayer you know   and every sin you committed. 

May be then I will be able 

To forgive myself 

For choosing you over me,

Always.

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