He was a Monday
For the love I've never had
By Myiah L BengstonPublished about a year ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash
I held my breath
Silk, frozen whiskey.
Winter on my tongue
his voice poured over me
I melted.
Like snowflakes on fogged glass
Jagged,
delicate.
Ice crystals rippled in his eyes
A glimmering gold.
My blood freezing
holding this moment.
Lighting races beneath my ribs,
electric constellations
dance over my skin.
It was a pleasure to burn.
As if playing symphonies
in a swarm of fireflies.
Love is,
the conscious curse.
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About the Creator
Myiah L Bengston
There is only so much I can say in a moment to get your attention. But a single moment of your attention to read is all I need. I love to write. As a teacher and aspiring author, I write everythng I can to try and get better every day
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