#1946

I wish
I knew whether you speak to me in memories
or metaphors
I dream
reek of burning feathers, scorched flesh
the weight of you in his arms
the slow seep of the unhealing wound
I dream
he kisses your cracked lips, feverish skin
murmurs against your breast an ancient name
that tastes of coals and blood
I wish
I knew when you speak truth
and when you speak lies
I wish
I knew whether you are cruel or merely
unfathomable

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