all night long
my skin stays dipped
in patterns of ache.
the ache that was built
on the night of separation,
that cracked my bones peacefully
and left me terribly broken
in madness and dry tears.
it was difficult to forget
the smeared verses of love
that attached and detached
without any noise
but, only with
a perpetual stain of breathlessness,
a perpetual stain of lifelessness.
it was difficult to unlearn
the art of closeness
that enclosed
my heart between your ribs.
the art of unloving,
the art of unlearning, you.
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