Published in The Interlooper
Does the warmth of my breath burn, my words scorching your tongue like soup too hot?
Does the smell of my hair stain your sheets, like my blood you spitefully shed?
Does the clear dew that encased my eyes morph the beauty of morning grass?
Does the new promise covering the imprint I left fill your void?
Does the man adorned with horns and ruby eyes challenge your reflection?
How do you feel knowing that the sword you thrusted killed your only love?
PHOTOGRAPH BY RACHEL KISER