My throat closes
when I think of you now
I loved you once—
I wanted you every day—
and part of me loves you still
but it would kill me
to have you
isn't it funny
how something that was once good for us
can become the death of us
a design by God—
or science—
who knows
we wake up one day
and our bodies have evolved
to reject even one taste
so violently
that it would be a delicate tango
between life and death—
Russian roulette—
to ever have you
again