Smiling.
It’s easy enough,
a simple twitch at
the corners of my
mouth
but my mouth still tastes
of you, your rough hands
holding me still
we folded in on ourselves,
a house of cards threatened
by the slam of a fist
on a table, where we
shot daggers at each
other's souls
you knew the right words to say
and my defences were low,
no glass case to protect
my body from
their sting
but my organs rest inside
my ribcage, my lungs are save
from the fire of your tongue
and my heart beats against
their bars, pulsing, pulsing,
pulsing away from
you