it’s reigning men

there was a chain you wore around your neck,

clashing with your t-shirt, dangling a million pieces

of a million broken hearts, each holding a million stories of a million lifetimes,

that you stole like the wallets from their bedsides

in the wisps of an early dawn,

after a night of whispered scandals

spent within the confines of a bedsheet,

in which you indulged to urge those secret lifetimes to be shared

along with the oxygen in the cramped space, that could have fit universes,

between your lips,

that traced down their million bodies, speaking a million lies,

leaving a trail of a million kisses that disappeared at the touch of sunlight,

leaving behind only the faint fragrance of a seductress’ perfume

and the melancholic broken heart that asked for more and couldn’t stop

like a crack addict attached to the high from which there is no escape

for they are puppets and they operate according to the will of your word

that controls the strings attached to their breakable minds and breakable hearts

that dangle from the chain around your neck,

clashing with your t-shirt but matching your eyes that smirk at me

and before I know it, it is morning and only a trace of your scent remains on my fingertips,

and i’ve lost my wallet and you’ve gained a heart on your chain.


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