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Jul 2015
it starts with a love potion/a rose tincture.
she says slowly feel it trickle down your throat. melting your heart. [blocks][of][ice]
i am locked in this-
thank you for being my angel of the night.
a resounding hum echoes into your guitar. bounces its way back to us.
we discuss new ways of playing instruments.
we smear raspberries on our bruises to sweeten the pain. to soften its bitter blows.
you carve teeth marks into my shoulder as a distraction.
i cry **** into your pillow instead of crying.
(this dull grief)
you talk about your dead cat. i make sure not to mention how i feel like
dead w e i g h t.
mountain moons painting themselves into storylines across my forehead
you read **** instead of *******.
Deana Luna
Written by
Deana Luna  Seattle, WA
(Seattle, WA)   
376
 
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