Half-love burns like a half-life spent
Radium lover
is your jaw rotting
From the stress of keeping everything behind your teeth
Incisor
Canine
Molar
In your dreams they fall into your palms
Soft and sacrosanct, grotesque, sharp pearls to string around hope’s neck
And crush it.
Love,
what were you not telling me
And why?
Title from Kate Beaton’s Marie Curie comic