His Lips As Mythology
kissing him, i feel like icarus. except this time,
we stick the landing
kissing him, he becomes the pomegranate and i
become persephone
(fruit has never looked so good)
loving him, i become achilles with his heel,
medusa with a mirror,
the epitome of not-so-happy endings
and yet, with all the stories written,
with all the stories told,
with all the heads chopped off and eternities
spent with dear old hades,
i'm writing this story the exact same way.
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