“I belong deeply to myself.”

“i give myself five days to forget you.on the first day i rust.on the second i wilt.on the third day i sit with friends but i think about your tongue.i clean my room on the fourth day. i clean my body on the fourth day.i try to replace your scent on the fourth day. the fifth day, i adorn myself like the mouth of an inmate.a wedding singer dressed in borrowed gold.the midas of cheap metal.tinsel in the middle of summer.crevice glitter, two days after the party.i glow the way unwanted things do,a neon sign that reads;come, i still taste like someone else’s mouth.”

“the year of letting go, of understanding loss. grace. of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind’. the year of humanity/humility. when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. everyone i’ve met this year, says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’. the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands. the year i learnt small talk. and how to smile at strangers. the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’. the year of sugar, everywhere. softness. sweetness. honey honey. the year of being alone, and learning how much i like it. the year of hugging people i don’t know, because i want to know them. the year i made peace and love, right here.”

“On the night of our secret wedding when he held me in his mouth like a promise until his tongue grew tired and fell asleep, I lay awake to keep the memory alive. In the morning I begged him back to bed. Running late, he kissed my ankles and left. I stayed like a secret in his bed for days until his mother found me. I showed her my gold ring, I stood in front of her naked, waved my hands in her face. She sank to the floor and cried. At his funeral, no one knew my name. I sat behind his aunts, they sucked on dates soaked in oil. The last thing he tasted was me.”

“your mouth is a lonely place but i keep coming back.”

“i learn urgentlythe architecture of lossthen find you again.”

“you were like an ulcer on the inside of my cheek that my tongue could not stop touching.loving you was like watching a stranger clean a week old wound; i felt sick, but i wanted more.”