vii.

Regret

Writing in a crumpled wad
Distorted lettering
Scrubbed to smudged, fine lines

Words from the tongue
Shared, bitten, swallowed

Laced fingers against
Sweating palms in
Discomfort

Joy and pain
In a fixated mixture;
Too blended to filter
the beating black
of one's heart.

The quiet silence of an
Aching soul...
Deafening.

and an unspoken "I'm sorry"
lingers in her breath,
the smoke dissolving
like a
kiss good-bye.