There is a trembling fist curled
At my side
The claw-like nails
Breaking the sensitive barrier
Of flushed skin
And letting tiny beads
Of sticky crimson
Like liquid rose petals
Fall from the
Aching openings
Three words
Are forced from
Your lips
I once thought
Tasted like
A refreshing sunrise
At the peak of the
July heat wave
Accompanied by clouds of cotton
And lavender sunsets
But now I recall
The difference
Between a dim sunset
And an oncoming monsoon
Three words
They often recite
Eight letters
Shoved unwillingly
Off your tongue
Cascading like a waterfall
I bang my head
Side to side
Trying to let the daunting thoughts
Slip from my skull
Nonverbally allowing a response
To retreat from my plagued veins
"I love you"
No
No you do not
