a reason to yield

you spread your fingers
in the sins of my hair,
as mine slept
in the breadth of your chest.
we lay in your bed,
sweetness spent.

myths pleased your mouth open
but finally you breathed,

“we've long been dead.”

did we ever count as love?
it did not matter, but it
pooled my head.

we've long known
absolution
was never in our favour,
but tell me
where to go from here.

“we can't fix what's been torn to shreds.”