Hopeful apprehension dipped
into her smile, snailing corner to corner-
slime cloaked me
with frames frozen in time:
snuggling in the crook of her hip, dinner simmered-
piercing denial of puncturing domination-
Liar-
TV and couches lulling us into the night-
Forger.
A mockery.
Her axe long forgot hatcheting
into my Tree, limbering away
as I silently stitched the wound with broken roots.
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Femme Noir 