Your words cut deep. Like a knife through my body. Cold stare. Mocking laughter. Contempt. MISTRUST. MOCKING LAUGHTER. Ask yourself. Honestly. Is it you? Hemisphere of love. Cold seeps in. Paralysis. Paralysis. I hear the blood move backwards. The room gets smaller when you speak. Your mouth says love. Your eyes say: Keep away. Keep away. Every touch already leaving. Every promise falls apart. You ask me why I’m shaking. You put the winter there. You put it there. You put it there. Don’t call this closeness. CAGE A pair of arms. I know the sound of tenderness being used as evidence. I know the shape that trust becomes: MISTRUST. You made it. I keep your laughter under my skin. A small machine. Grinding. Grinding. Grinding everything soft into suspicion. Ask yourself. Honestly. Was it love? Or hunger falling slowly through its clothes? You? You? Hemisphere of love. Hemisphere of love. Half in shadow. The cold keeps coming. Through you. You. You. You.
