I would ask for you to read this but I’d hate for your gaze to linger or for you to reminisce. The words I write are not for you nor was ever my forgiveness;
unlike devotion, that was for us two, to which you bore false witness.
I look back at that night with regret now, remembering the way your eyes gleamed when my dignity was forced to sorely bow. In that moment I knew it was never a dream.
You have always been incendiary and your eyes hold those same properties.