passing magic

secret

because she says that
i didn't belong there
not that i belong here, either;
that's just absurd

but she says that
his hands did not belong
in mine

and she says that
his lips did not belong
on mine

still she says that
there are things that simply
never actually do belong

and i watched her lips whisper my name,
hypnotic

"honey,"

she says

"who are you trying to fool?"

and she is fuchsia and hyacinth and lavender and pink

and i am faded lines on parchment paper, messy and indecisive and meaningless

and he is there with vines and leaves held in his fingers,
and he is holding on so tight to something so worthless
and they are spilling out of his hands,
yet he continues to grasp for something
to
save

"we don't talk to the broken man,"

she murmurs,
her voice cascading waterfalls
and i am

falling

"he is afraid of the sunrise"

and
she is
gone

and so we cry and press rewind.