Tripped

I stumbled

over our history

didn’t mean

to leave it on the floor

where anyone could find it

I skidded on the memory

of our smooth beginning

when we flowed into one another

like molten chocolate

our world sweet and tart

on our tongues

before winter stole stealthily in

and blossoming frost

revealed the cracks in illusions

we created of each other

truth heaved

groaned

left us broken in shards

sliced my feet on sharp edges

floor slippery with blood

regret

the hazard

that led to my fall


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

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