The Aftertaste of Us
Walls, the color of your
eyes enveloped me that
lively summer day when I
sprang from your rein, ran
the other way, a caged cougar
free at last. The cracked soil
was the color of your hair,
between my toes, a hindrance
until heat- heavier than your
fisted hands- became my fuel,
the wind my breath. I
swept through the champagne
field away from your vindictive
voice calling out to me
as I swallowed the bitter
aftertaste of us.
…
…
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