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Nights in Your Doorway

I remember you on the precipice

of always

leaning in

of words

confessions

of pouring yourself another drink

of lying

Your first lie

told to me in the doorway

“We’ve met before”

Me, on the precipice

of laughing too hard

staring too long

sending a text

Instead, I settle for standing in your doorway

run my hands against the frame

drop, by my thigh

your eyes travel

and the first lie I told you

was pretending not to notice

your gaze suspended in the time loop

of innocence – gratuitousness

harmless – greed

You settled instead

for making me laugh

it rippled from my lips

like a spring brook

and carried the weight

of everything I’d lost

to someone else’s well

and I realised

This is what my voice sounds like

I wanted to hear it again

so I beckoned you

through my doorway

dress

dropping

eyes

watching

Innocent

greedy

reaching

You settled for a sigh

Incomplete

but it carried with it the heat

of every fire I’d extinguish

under the weight of someone else’s blanket

I nurtured that new ember

with whispers from wet lips

and

willingly crossed the precipice

from innocent

to guilty

from possession

to possessed

from wanted

to wanting

after which

you no longer settled for lies

you spilled truth from my eyes

and with every wheezing sob

was the force of a hurricane

brewed from words

never spoken

sticks and stones

never thrown

and I realised

that a voice

is made up of so many

broken and beautiful things

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