Staple it together

The nails of my left hand are darker than those on my right. Because I was shaking so hard, I had to put the little brush down.

So now one lacquer-tipped hand is blacker, the way the tip of my tongue is more hopeless because it tasted more things, froze off from more imaginary winters, tapped the right end of a cigarette (he calls me a wet smoker), teased more melting ice cream.

Because the words I was supposed to say teetered there, then finally withered when you willed them away.

Because you willed away the words I was supposed to say.

*

Helen has found a soulmate in Charz. Sa bagay, pareho kayong juding. :)

Thanks, Yaps. I'm getting redundant, but hey.