06: never look away
this is only a love story if you don’t want it to be.
there is dust in your throat, dry, promise-soft. a
calla lily is cold-soft between fingertips, and we
are dead, and then we are this.
she says there is an end, and think of the rebirth.
think of her eyes, glass-shadows, and of the petals
mockingbird-bright in her mouth.
she says, we will be immortal, and the pale ash falls
like shining coins from her mouth. you do not
turn away.
here, you forget how to run.
