F
Flaming_Verbs
Guest
Mosaics
The act of being dismissed
Of being brushed off
Left to hang
SuspendedIn the space between your words
And your retreating back
A feeling I’ve grown used to
That I’ve started anticipating
Predicting the set of your jaw
And the delivery of the next blow
To my already aching chest
Taking every sadistic infliction
Until self-preservation beats libidinous need
Knowing that he will be amazed at the mosaicsI can makeWith the piecesHe leaves me in.
Lovely and haunting dually.