Trans(formative)
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We are toxic together,
People say
A broken relationship
Where nothing good can bloom.

I think I am safe
(I am water)
But I am becoming a poisonous well
With his additions.

We skin up together
Shot up
Snort up
Come down.

He comes home with flowers
Not flowers for me
I am not his girl
(He promised)
But flowers for him.

Petals that become drugs
Paper-thin
Dissolving on the tongue
Slipping into the state that is Him.

I know he is not safe
(He is chlorine)
But the heart
She wants what she wants.

We are transformative
I am trans(forming) in front of him
A moth from a cocoon
Wings spread, vulnerable
Waiting to be splattered or spared.

One night, dark,
After a funeral
We wanted to feel alive
In bed, laying side-by-side.

I am clothed
He is not
(He is never)
My top becomes gently unbuttoned.

I smell Bloom on his breath
Through his pores
Infecting me too
(Not table salt).

And he puts his hand up there
Finds nothing but budding mountains and air
Silently withdraws
Rolls over on his side.

And I realise now
He wanted the me from another time.

But still
I am his Dawn.
And he Blooms for me.

Aching, I curl my fingers into the blanket
And cry for us.

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