Just like always

Watching you,
I am reminded
of the last time
we met.
You wept, one-handed,
while I let your yellow-eyed woman
sing of carousels
and children’s sneakers.
Every time I listen to you speak
I am full of your blood again,
full of your life,
and you are on the floor,
ritual over,
heavy breathing,
just like always.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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