a stain is not an active incident
it is what we left behind
after we clean the mess

honey used to drip from your skin onto mine
a sweet thread connecting even sweeter moments
a natural connection

our warm skin run cold
a porcelain shell
moment after moment
the chaos in your brain
spilling honey

the mess is clean
now this shell is stained
i wait patiently
for us to connect

17 days, 28 days, 30 days
the gaps widen
the wall is built higher and higher
and the final sticky strand
connecting me to you
is stretched so thin

twenty moments of desire in four hundred days

I can’t see us anymore