sunlight streamed
through cobwebs
to illuminate
decaying memories

there was a time
when love meant
back massages when I was tired
and making fun
of all the hair on his arms
just to apologize
in fluttered lashes

my hand
reached through years
just to find his

but sepia crawls over
all of the colors

now when our eyes meet
he mutes the connection,
draining me wordlessly

my smiles are forced
as I hide my teeth
and try not to blink
our history in code



moonlight sits
behind window glass
as if waiting for
permission to come in

all sounds fold & flatten—
creased into static

and my tongue feels
too heavy to lift when it
tries to say that you
mean nothing to me


by Sarah Lucille Marchant

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