c l o t s

blood looks different
on every letter that I write to you.
they all reek of my desperation,
like your heart reeks of me.
my fingers have forgotten 
how to move in circles
over ridges and falls
of your name,
but my dreams whisper your name
to me at 2:14 a.m.;
remember how you left me
before you left me,
loving her,
hiding,
under our pillows-
I can almost smell you
on them tonight,
I can almost feel your skin
on all of my sensations
on this occasion of death.
my heart is hollow,
your memories keep sinking
deeper inside me,
where do we bury all this love?
remember how I forgot departure
when you called out my name,
after our ceremonial end had begun?
remember how you left me
before you left me,
setting all of my desires
on your flesh,
leaving me
with your tantalizing faith
glorifying my empty shrine?

did you leave your heart
in 
the void between my arms,
or has mine left the cage,
looking for you-
it has started rusting,
the bitterness is on my tongue now-
is it death getting closer,
or am I losing sanity another time?
our hearts have gone cold,
is my body going cold too?

where is the clot-
why is my heart choking tonight-
did you not set me free?
what is death that does not part?

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