words by dominic riccitello

the daylight observes your curves
longing in tradition 
we hold ourselves in a memoir of our truth
i turn pages like faces of strangers
kissing backs to the beat of a rain drop
the floor floods with emotions
i told you lies to hold you
playing a violin to fool view
hatred folds arms and i stand at guard
hurting to touch but feigning to fall
we plant the roots in our garden
falling leaves to paint subconscious
i held you as you held us
broken promises in the lush of our trust
throwing bottles of champagne from a penthouse
neither of us should have stood
screaming names at three am
i talked to strangers to feel somewhat
you broke fidelity and i cracked abuse
it was the truth
it was us
a memory of a man in a garden
standing with thorns at edge
kissing hands he was dealt
i blamed you but i blame i
a man in darkness too close to windows
dancing in glass houses
making spices for gardens i killed
instead of thrived in