press your ears to the soil.
do you hear that?
that is mother earth lamenting over the man you are,
over the man you could be.
you bite your tongue,
holding the rose words between your teeth,
only to offer forth their thorns instead.
(do you try to hurt me?)
your silver hands slide over my skin,
cutting it open as you cry oceans.
(salt in the wound.)
you pull out that magazine clipping of my rosy skin,
pull it from the cracks in your alibi.
-truth has never been in your
favor
