Whether it was on a walk
our hands bound together
Or a nap,
as I slept to your steady breathing
It was perfect.
A dinner of steak, medium-rare
My heels high, your tie fastened
Or cold pizza
Your hair a compass leading everywhere,
my T-shirt oversized and wrinkled
It was perfect.
You and I
Together yet alone,
it was just us.
It was perfect.
It was perfect until,
she convinced you to take a bite of her,
made you think I would understand.
It was my only condition.
Our one commandment together, broken,
I became naked.
For you were my skin,
my bone.
At first, you tried to hide it from me
but I see without eyes.
You asked for my forgiveness,
I heard but refused.
For I saw what you changed into.
She had clothed you with her venomous words
until you became her.
And when she became you with another,
you begged to sit in my garden again.
But I had closed my marrow gates
to you and you alone.
The garden now felt empty,
one left in a place for two.
Our hands unbound,
I fell asleep to my own breathing.
Heels behind closed closet doors
and dinner for one.
Truly alone.
It was no longer perfect.
About the Creator
Elise Spiller
I write to express.
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