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