I Think I Hate Your Mouth



after our first goodbye
i felt my spine crack down the middle
splintered into shards of “could be”
i wondered if the leaning tower
was just heartbroken over his lover leaving
you took my left side,
so I kept thinking it would be right
when you finally came back
that i would put myself back together
as soon as you were ready
i forgot i could regenerate
i forgot i had the ability
to take back what you stole from me

* * *


I think I hate your mouth.
You tasted like tangerines that night
as you shed your skin,
we danced like
black mambas,
​coughed up your poison when you went to the bathroom.
But the world didn’t explode.
You said,
“I’m happy now,”
I tasted her inside your tooth.
I think I hate your mouth,
and the way the world didn’t explode.
You said goodbye,
for good,
and nothing was set on flames.
Nobody called for revolution,
or barricaded windows.

It kept spinning. It kept going.

I think I hate your mouth
when I remember I can’t find it near me.