• your slow laugh melting in my palms
    you were slipping, an essence dripping through
    my curling fingers nothing other than a film
    sickly grey, the grease of it leaving smudges
    oily prints of evasive memories on the walls
    a grime wax-like in its hollowness and i
    i swallow against the infection in my throat
    another point on the list i ignore and i can't
    face anything can't tilt my chin up and i'm gulping
    gulping down these lumps these choking cysts of
    weakness of miserable pride drowning in denied
    need and confrontation avoided by cowardice
    too slow to outrun the meekness and you're slowing
    have we no shame anymore