your love tastes bitter in my mouth,
makes me cringe.
like the over-ripe
plums you picked up from the market.
i cannot lick these juices from my palms,
will not lick these leftovers
from the corner of my mouth,
the tip of my nose.
your love tastes bitter.
it has soured too long,
too long lain alone,
in the dark.
in the dark.
no-do not sweeten this
with false talk.
that will only hasten its end.
i am sorry,
do not hate me.
but these are not my problems,
and your love will still taste bitter,
in the morning.
in the morning.
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