poem: honeysuckle

oh ! but she 

shines. ocean eyes / riptide /

a tsunami of what she never gave to the last one ; honey and sunlight and lavender and her secrets / fragrant little prisoners.
oh ! but she

lied. that’s the way of

the ones without a home in their stomachs

selling Love on the black market ;
it will make

a good story – if 15 years from today you still remember her name / not, just, and only just

the way she tasted. 

(the new ones will leave

you, knowing more about her than you ever remember sharing.)

t. bennett ; @raggedhearts

on : what happens to people who put their lovers up on pedestals, and forget that they’re human.

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