I twirled in the arms of an unrecognized...
figure. Save the glass.
Their pieces caked but still a whole.
(in a certain sense)
Now they speak of places where we can
wash our hands. Clean between our ears' nostrils
while sanitizing burns scared on our arms.
Though you sat in that chair. invisible to others,
I saw you sit clearly with that blackened smile;
I should have never listened to you.
For your sneers, and your comforting voice as you caressed
My cheek. I withered in your arms.