The End of Us

unconventional. yet, maybe just abstract.

apathy pirouettes
giving us just a little breathing room
and so taken we are
with its lax structural integrity
kicking at the shins of desire and futility
grown tired of kissing
and with every new reach
we realize
it is we casting aside
no precautionary measures
i'm going in
duck and cover
breathe in and hold it
no pandemic in romance
just the two of us
laid out
not for want to hide
our bubble burst so wildly
that with no intent i'd found
i've died