No I won’t
Hear your words
They slide out of your mouth
And right into the palms of your hands
You offer them up
For me to chew and swallow
I don’t want their pleasing aroma
To trick me into indulging in the mirage of their existence
I scoop of shreds of broken glass
From alleyways and abandoned buildings,
The dirt they lie in a secondary bonus
We crush them between our teeth
Grinding their saltiness into my blood
Until we grind them into a fine powder
Half she takes, and I take mine
Together we scrub my face raw
Your words have soiled my insides
And I need to be cleansed
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