"This is how we loved.
Not with mouths,
but with minefields.
We were two bodies starving—
digging..."

“This is how we loved.

Not with mouths,

but with minefields.

We were two bodies starving—

digging through dirt

on the raw of our hands.

I never touched you like

waltzes in moonlight;

I touched like rabid dogs;

like forks in electrical sockets

and I’m sorry for that.

And you: a forgotten era.

You, who crawled

on your belly toward the light.

You, who ate the sun

to keep yourself shining.

You were scared of the dark

and I was scared of the dark

inside myself.

I sucked the light from

between your teeth

and left you a dying star

in an unnamed constellation.

I walked up the axis of the earth—

mud beneath my nails,

blood on my chin.

I met the moon halfway

and told her all about

the way I used to feel

when you would kiss me.

She’s still the only one who knows.

I took your light,

I’m sorry.

I didn’t know I had one of my own.”

- Mercury and Mars, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)
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Published on November 01, 2015 23:00
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