NIC- newly industrialised person
And the word boyfriend sounded foreign to me
As if it should be spoken from another girl’s lips.
When I did say it, it was through a gravel mouth
as though I was cursing your half smile and rough hands
that furrowed brow, how everything was a thought process to you. (Love cannot and should not be analysed, databased or calculated).
And as though I had not heard from you in one hundred years,
I Extricated Myself.
Your ice eyes and my tense body
parts
How quickly
something falls together
Is not how quickly it will fall apart.
Distance can drown your lungs as every gasp of air is filled with someone else’s laugh
maNIC
DNA
That water laugh
all light and salt,
Dead-ly.
End-ed.
tinarosepoetry 