The ink that she spilled
still pinned above my bed.
A polaroid and a poem that
she couldn't write for me.
So I cauterized every bleeding pipeline
between us with the flame
that I could not groom for you.
Can't make you out over the noise
in this room, where we'll finally deflate
from all the sighs we let escape.
So remember everything-
Being emptied, looking up at you
saying "never ever ever ever ever"
They weren't butterflies. No, they
were flames that we couldn't tame,
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