Your scoffing scrapes
down my throat like
ice chips, wrenches
through my airways
and suffocates.
You who hold the power
here, you wield it
with nonchalance,
malaise. I cry too
easily, hand it back
to you, betray
my own posture.
Forget this,
my submission,
the way the tears slide
down my cheeks and drip
on our crumpled blanket.

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