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106–111°F No Tongue No Teeth
Your voices were climbing on the walls, I thought someone might hear
so I stumbled upon a random visitor in the gardens; inviting yet dangerous to erase your cries within my fortified yet crumbled chest, beating fast, how fast is too fast? This.
The wine bottle seemed to never end, I promised I won’t be drinking much, enough, to shed a tear, a quirky smile when someone mentioned your name.
And again, I was craving to listen to someone plying your name.
What is wrong with me?
Protein cells have begun melting long time since this marathon of chasing, erasing memories by crying in every corner of the self, these gardens contain just too many, to count, and to mark the cutting grass, it grows too much, too often, this obnoxious crawl in circles — with a pencil, rewriting, reinventing pain.
How am I supposed to face the absense of both cold and heat?
Lukewarm emotions were covered in sand, for a kiss to withstand the strangeness of repeating ex lovers on a Friday lonely summer sadness, it’s always summer in here.
Emptying a kiss from its living particles, made no sense.
But falling in love with tragedy.
