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hollow were his lips,
parted in a casual ring
formed of smoke colored
red like my insides where he wasn't allowed
although, i figured, he
had planned as his destination,
so it wasn't a shock
(more of a slurring
bang) when he said
goodbye
without a hug
and let the door settle
deftly in its frames
with a petulant whack,
not quite a slam but
more
than i
had bargained for.
oh, so i
stood blinking in the
shawls of a flourescent bulb
watching him,
onion-colored by moonlight,
as shadow tears crawled
themselves down my chin,
heaving across the
freckled curves of skin
that still
breathed with his
scent.
i was no virgin,
just a bruise
kneed-martyr
with thighs still
charred from burning at the
stake
and a halo-thin defense
that
was easily punctured.
(i siren-steered them,
spreading
mermaid-madness to
each lunatic's bed),
but i said no that night-
eyes wing-shot and
rustling
with feather light
dignity and rosary beads,
not mine, but a
reminder of an ancient mother-
i chose
to wake in purity.