on the riverbank of the fox, painted only by onyx and moonlight. I made you cry of hopelessness, dark disdain, and despair. A bruised crime, unforgiven by my conscious. tear stains only the park bench will know fell from pale soft skin; I held close to my face.
It's so easy to slip into old comforts. You held me only because we were alone. You were fascinated with me, and I showed you that I disagreed with your imagination. Ruin the dream, Spoil the honey. It could never be the way your green eyes dreamt it.
Behind our embrace, I stared at window panes, opaque like your pupils.
It stained out onto our tight black clothes already soaked with teenage sweat and caffeine.
Our youthful grease,
Was So Sweet.
I looked deep to see your wet brain.
(You haunted me, you sighed covered in the suit of my thermite guilt) I'll just thumb your skull down into the bed of the riverbank.