Cosmopolitan

Burning cherries
over weak flames
reminds me
of every waxen smile I would fake
after our fights
and all the arguments we spent up
like countless
blackened
wicks.

Ripping out the heated, dripping insides
takes me back
to when you would do
the same to me,
with your reckless words;
never holding back,
and yet
now I realize
why you always did so
with relish;
triumph tastes so sweet
when it's taken
ferociously.

But the blackened,
e m p t y
shell left
leaves me a cruel reminder
of what I am
without you,
as the bitter aftertaste fights
to remove all sweetness
from my mind--

And tying the stems
into pretzel-heart knots
with my tongue
only makes me miss your kisses

more.