Sunrise

Breathing you in feels
like exhaling doubt,
these careful breaths
hitting the back of
my neck in rhythm,
a loose arm draped
over a set of steel ribs;
like a dog with a
blanket wrapped snug
around its midsection.
Your fabrication is like
a tequila sunrise,
leaving a cold heart
thawed where reality
would’ve left frostbite.

– B.

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