As the night draws to a conclusion,
this war between us explodes with
landmines, tripping over
wires of insecurity,
cutting through the tension
of our invention.
After consuming red wine,
distraught tears flow through
a crack in your voice,
saying what you couldn’t say sober.
Everything in the rearview mirror
is someone else’s future.

Published on Spillwords!

(© 2022 AC)

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