Wednesdays

You look to me with eyes crystallized in pain and teeth gritting behind sallow lips,

but a crocodile always drips tears when its teeth can no longer clamp shut on it’s prey. 

Your first mistake was thinking I was a gazelle when I was a plover. 

Your second was skirting over the sadness in my own eyes in lieu of your desire. 

And now? Your hunger will remain inevitable, as you merely get to watch me fly away. 

– B. 

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