UNTITLED ENDING

UNTITLED ENDING

Everything must come to an end

eventually � I�ll reach a hand

across the table, and you won�t be there.

When you drive away, I�ll smell the pillows

and what�s left of you. I�ll try to understand

why this had to happen, and why it stays

suspended in the air, hovering like a fly

waiting for a taste of what it remembers,

sweetly, regardless of the stench � guilt.

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