The golden seal you've placed at the end of your tongue
Comes undone at the edge of my teeth.
And I peel it back
Slowly
At First
Like a fruit too delicate to eat.

I've worked for hours trying to unwind it.
An incandescent veil beckoning me to cross it.

"Can't you see what you've done?"
But my bones have been stripped for years.
They've been leafed in silver, chrome like a future I want no part of.
Still, like the way you looked at me.
When I pulled away your molten flesh and left you exposed with nothing but your sin to greet me.