The day is cyclical
In subconscious routine
I bite my nails
Nails to nubs
And cry
About moments past
Out of reach, translucent
Like silvery ghosts
Frigid, festering, frosting
The blood running thin and contaminated
Through my veins

Lips stained
Recklessly, remorsefully, red
With the wine that impelled me
To allow you there again
Lips stained
Burgundy, begging, beckoning to you
"Come closer,"
They whispered, not I

The day is cyclical
In subconscious routine
I grind my teeth
Teeth to gums
And cry
About moments past
Fleeting, evanescent
Like fireflies at twilight
Flickering, flashing, flitting
Through my mind
I cringe at the thought of
Touching one