behind thickly coated owl eyes i fall victim
to your appraisal
uttered between lips plumped like fruit
hanging on the lowest branches of trees
towering
over our fogged thoughts
and hushed conversations

you wear scuffed loafers and holes
in your flannel
because you’re always so above
labels—
at least the ones you don’t twistedly place on
my forehead

i live on in memories
via black and white film from your vintage camera
that seals my entire being
in two tones

it took me months to finally
shed a tear
and once i did i couldn’t stop
until i nearly drowned
in the whiskey waterfalls that traced my
scared ivory skin

somedays i’m left to wonder
if you hang onto the photos of me
in the passenger seat of your car wearing your favorite smile,
the one that best fit
into the monochromatic view
you always had of me