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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