litho

 

 

 

How was I supposed to know

it wouldn’t have

turned out like that

 

That you would never love me

 

You took that

fickle little piece of passion

and minted it into her

 

A fragment she is

 

Nothing more

than a process of lithography

 

You loved that dirt and grime

ached for that flush

vial of grease

 

You didn’t crave my warmth

didn’t beg for that

sliver of deliriousness

 

It had been madness darling

 

Fingernails crawling under skin

your words

turning moon tides into stone

 

I should have known

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