he keeps asking
why
I don't write
about him

my dear,
my sweet darling,
it is because
you
do not cause heartache
and pain
like the others did

I do not know
how
to write
when I am in love

I am a prisoner in my own mind
and you've swallowed the key

your curious gaze,
teasing smile, laughter. languid
like straight tequila.

ever flowing and
missing the rim of my cup
an intentful flow.

alikened to shame and
reddened on my dark cheeks like
ripened tomatoes.

you are a pleasant
sharp tasting fruit. bitter yet
ready to be plucked.

vineless. ever free.
forbidden. incandescent
and reflective shine.

I'm sat here in ruins.
Ruins of the earth, and ruins of myself.
Which one is worse? I cannot yet tell.

i don't pay attention to the world slowly ending.
it has ended for me many times
and began again in morning.