David Centorbi

I Saw The Sweaty Scales

I saw the sweaty scales
and its cracked notes
sliding down 
into a now
stillborn melody.

A melody, that once, when our legs and feet 
could breathe, we held one another and whispered 
stars and thunder into each other’s ears,
our passion melting the jealous mirrors, until

the sharp tears started spreading across the floor
pushing us toward shot glasses filled with bitter-blood-light–

a drink we would soon raise 
to our once imagined, endless horizons. 

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