Salt

I have lost the taste
of the salt of you
it stung my tongue for so long
with the sweet ache of your tang
in my breath
in your sea
and I drowned

now you are leaking from the corners
of my eyes and out of the small
of my back as I twist and
grind myself into a pulp beneath
him
and tell me
if you prick me
do I not bleed your water
from my lips
and deflate

I will bury you
in the salty dunes of
his sweat, and
hold your memory beneath
the surface, until it fades
and ripples, soft, away