history cannot be muted by a kiss
butterflies will not drown in your drink
dark streets do not betray your shadow
he strokes her fragrance
with a soft inhale,
a kitchen room
cabinets stove fridge and sink
table center
soup can next to opener,
between them,
the earth has not fallen
yet still they stare
not at each other
but at the can
silver topped paper wrapped,
blood smears oceans
and desert sand,
wine flavored tongues begin to talk,
as they decide
stripped of it’s cloth
the table was bare and knotted,
around her shoulders
cloth placed
as they found out about
soup and why it was in
can
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