| dominic riccitello

i slip on my tongue words you say things we’ve done fists make rounds saliva on the ground i wade in a fever of a sea of grief two upon a couch with shades of disbelief to tango with legs twist or kiss the death i’ll soon to miss i hurdle to your please emotional abuse became of thee you flee at the touch of rapids i tango with my hands they say it hurts to be, but i said it hurts to become we make our waves how i slept for days in a daze where no one came you slip on cracks i slipped on my tongue gave two lungs for a blood bath i soon regret i used to use commas instead of periods semicolons instead of deleted sentences how i brought the knife to my neck the way you questioned it two became one you became of none killed things i believed in i left you in the rapids so i could breathe again knives and necks