our days blurred into weeks –
a week into a month.
we were attached at the hip
you were mine and i was yours.
you were suddenly the fresh air i
breathed and then just like that,
the air polluted and when
i was struggling to gasp for
air, you were nowhere to be
found.
YOU ARE READING
with whiskey on our breath
Poetrybecause there's that one moment in life where you meet someone and wonder, "where the fuck have you been all my life?" this was - is our moment. © christine marie.
