years stood between us, grazing shoulders
                (me and him)

but he lingered and hung near my every
shift.
nimble fingers followed my curves and crevices,
raising hairs to stand, the shame piling, chest tightening.
i felt my breaths leaking out shorter.
my muscles aching from constricting.

years stood between us, sharing palms.
                (me and him)

but his stare carved my flesh, curving bloodied letters into an
unsaid chorus.
staring at my complexion through
stained glass panes and muddied puddles, his pupils still
hooked on my picture frame.
my stomach churning in acid and withered flower petals.

years stood between us, hooking arms.
                    (me and him)

but I'm left with tattoos and memories and stains
of who he shaped me out to be. now a tattered and broken
clay vase, stitched in barbed patterns.
so I rebuilt Rome with only twigs and mud,
into a twisted picture of its past self.

years now stand between us, leaving me
empty-handed.
                  (me)