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 **** 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