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Writer's pictureleyla fern king

sufferance

Updated: Dec 5

your foot brushes mine in the kitchen 

while the silence turns your water into wine 

you take a bite out of your sandwich

you ignore the heat of your ankle intertwined with mine 

and the sunlight rots the calville apple on the counter 


i imagine your teeth on my skin 

sting, suck, squirm 


my spine cools against your freezing hands

while the sea parts to the shape of our bodies  

i grow soft at the edges and fall right into you

i reach for the warmth at the back of your neck 

and the sin paints my vision red around the corners


you bump my waist and laugh

smile, smirk, swindle 


in every kitchen, bar, or alley, you suffer for me too 

even when the sabotage kisses your cheek

even when the sacrifice bleeds blue 


in my sufferance, i come undone to a memory

sad, small, solitude.

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