“Bones”

It’s like actually deciding to go into your closet, and pulling out all of the bones buried inside, and sifting thru the pieces that hurt when you touch them; ready to inflict pain upon self, as your reflection is Karma.

I cheated on you one random morning, and you called me to check in and tell me that you love me; your spirit was so bright, and as the now-distant memory sat across from me on her couch, going thru classic records, I felt sick to my stomach.

We made love that night, and maybe that’s why I hear my name in teasing echo, as you lose control of your own body, calling out to me. Maybe it’s why seeing you with another man, in your natural skin, giddy to be taken by him —I shut the videos off.

I dropped everything for you — but your damn closet — every space filled, but you have always been sexiest in your domestic nature. You clean up your lies nicely, then roll up and get me high off of your aroma alone; present and future mind with nose opened, holding onto your pheromones. And you moan my name when you’re with them, and they don’t care — yet, you stay there. Playing hide ’n’ seek with me, tucked in closet with skeletons key, with a finger to those lips of yours; messy, curly hair, your breasts supple, headlights beam, horny, trying to recapture the feeling of me.

Poetry in Snapchat prose pose. You make love to me in increments and erase what I…