“Do we need to talk?”
hangs from my tongue
on a noose of
agreed
silence.

It tastes like I’ve imagined
your lips, or perhaps
those were someone else’s
once, before
this.

The words hover
coat my mouth
in sugar and mint
carved and colored
swirls.

“I don’t think you two
will ever figure it
out”
which two? us two?
oh. uh.
Truth.

“Are we going to talk about
how we just had…
nevermind.”

Silence is our
Death Sentence.