Shaking

ivanovgood- Pixabay

A shiver of exhalation

from the shock of words

rushing past the loveliest of lips

as it shreds bandages.

The flirtatious dance in purgatory

was more than bearable,

it was food for disjointed stories.

Now crooked smiles and high-pitched apologists

scramble to deflect from vibrating fingers

rushing to hold and let go.

I promised myself I didn’t feel this;

my limbs disagree.

Skin can’t live in denial;

I am still trying to shake you.