Adelaide Miller

the way you
whisper our 
love greedily 
with chapped 
lips smeared 
with secrets
has me craving
the taste of 
your promises

i have 
devoted myself
to your 
shape in 
my mattress
and the 
smell of the 
perfume that
lingers on my skin

but i feel 
the way your
fingers skitter
across my own
as though
you can not
bear to 
feel the heat
of my palm 

and you tempt 
with your 
pretty things
that can not
be kept

when foundations
split do not
expect wildflowers
to spring from
the cracks
and keep the
concrete from
crumbling 

there is 
nothing
pretty things
can do when
blood runs cold
and the 
tingle of your
name in my
mouth turns
to ash on
my tongue