Unspoken

Cigarette burns on the carpet

Your yellow dress—

Beautiful the day

You first wore it

Ugly now

Chiffon skirt stained through

With wine spills

From your sloppy hand

The elegance has gone

Existing only

Within the hushed murmurs

Of your drunken talk

How you don’t wish to be this way

Asking if I hate you

Pinning me

Under a wet, imploring gaze

Distant yet focused

In a telling haze

Of disorientation

Where antipathy struggles

To say yes

I do hate you

But I pick you up

Bring you to bed

Listen to your light snores

And tuck curls of your hair

Behind your ear

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