Your lilac chest perfume
departs when the sun sinks into a helpless slumber.
Lavender scented sex after midnight.
The moon emerges from its shadow cast
Milky Earl grey traces stain the sky.
Your shirt is soiled in notes of sea salt and verde crumble.
As you wake your sleeping eyes,
I kiss the last bit of yesterday off of your plum hued lips.
This is the last time,
I told myself that lie.
Unable to grasp onto the silks of your skin infinitely, I dimmed my soul;
drowned within my own illumination.
I’ll always be the greedy bitch you love.
Click click
lights out.
You flipped the Off switch of my heart.
Onomatopoeia motherfucker.

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