The sun wakes after I have walked two hours just to trace the outline of your body.
My arms have purple fingerprints from all the times you grabbed me when I walked into your ghost.
A thousand suns used to fall from the tips of my fingers into your outstretched hands.
You would kiss me just to catch the cigarette smoke unfurling out of my mouth.
We used to play last card beneath a candle light and sitting in forts.
The colours of a hundred sun sets fell from your mouth when you looked at me.
Rainbows had formed in the back of your throat where you thought no one could find them, but I tasted them when your lips met mine.
My eyes have dark rings under them from all the sleepless nights you caused me.
You carved a hole in my chest and never replaced it.
You held me so tight all of my bones broke and every crack had your name inside.

The sun woke this morning and I wasn't tracing the outlines of your body.
I wasn't speaking volumes because your lips weren't touching mine, and that's the only time I feel safe enough to write a novel.
The sun rose and I was waist deep in the water, trying not to think about your face.
But the water made waves that carried your name right to me.

I pretended that he watched her
delicately
Like as if to observe
The golden tips
From butterfly wings

I pretended that he touched her
palms
So he could signal
Her nerve endings to stop shaking

I pretended that he kissed her
Temples
As if they were a place to worship
That his body was all he had
To offer

I pretended that he brought her
coffee
So that she couldn't feel
The steel pillars in her soul

I pretended that he loved her
entirely
But instead
He just sipped his tea
And folded
Arms across the table

I used
Periods.
At the ends
Of questions
Because
I didn't feel comfortable
Leaving them
Optionally
Open ended