Acetone*

What a day it will be
when we'll discover that
underneath our overworn sheen
is a layer of untouched rust,
smothered with lust.

And then with a scalding cry,
our minds will shatter,
splitting our belief of love
in half, where it's always been.

We will extirpate
all our memories,
as if the stars never
decorated the sky,

And when someone
inquires why,
you can tell them what we had
was only a velleity
branching out of our hearts.