words by dominic riccitello

i twist myself
in places 
exerting energy
where words could keep
my distance
the touch, my love
i said things
we’d be together
but alas
body
the dysmorphia
i tango between his fuse
never thinking he’d go
the guilt, my chills
breathing deeper
i go with
flowing heavily
twisting his shirt
pulling him towards
i dreamt of days
where peace would find
easy things could grasp
his red
my darkest
we blurred the edges
falling too deep
too fast
too hard
and he ran
when things got hard
cold, rigid and dark