the words of my heart fall from your lovely fingers to pile on the floor like so many discarded valentines written in crayon with dollops of glue and glitter lies

you step across them with callous disregard for the meaningless odes to forever with an arched eyebrow and the kind of casual disinterest reserved for the dying

my tear streaked cheeks reddened from thunderous slaps and gentle kisses that speak from both sides of the mirrored shade you throw with manicured hate

retreating into the solace of the quiet night spent in cardboard castles beneath the train trestle that bridges the insulin shock of sweetly spoken nothings