by loqueesesencial
i left your imagined heart
and a thousand eyelashes plucked
before their time
on the windowsill.
there are feelings you keep
close to the bone,
that every so often break
against my awkward edges.
sometimes your mouth is a stone
and i have holes for eyes
and in those moments we are cutting our bare feet
on the outside of everything,
trying not to lose elbows and knees
in each other.
other times we are lying still
and the world is as big, or as small
as the collection of meteors
we watched die from the warm side of your bedroom window
or the space
between our open mouths in the dark.
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