In Conclusion

does trust come from the sky

or is born in the infancy of fire

bathe in it’s shadow

and let it linger in the eye,

no incident can let it go,

dry coughs

awkward glances,

a long thread no more subtle

than saliva from a bottleneck,

to plume of exhausted breath,

open words

sore like wounds deepen,

as if caught on the ocean’s

roughest coral,

intimacy rare no longer needed,

raw pauses

neglected opening of the mouth

silence fell,

a ball of anger now the abandoned

toy in the corner,

term of arrangement sorted

it could go to court

or be sorted now,

with looks , voices and reaching

fingertips,

solving this was hard,

dissolving would be harder

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