i love how the mouth opens

and exhales the same sentence every dusk,

a rusted gray coin dropped into a well

that has no bottom and no echo.

you never hear the coin land.

i love how the only reason the tears come

is because once you held the glass that held the water.

i love how you give me reasons to lie, to cheat, to steal,

small polished keys slipped into the palm,

each one engraved with the same promise:

this door leads out,

this one too, keep collecting.

i love how you keep me alive on the hope of something better,

although you discourage my wishes,

that ease is a myth sold to children and lucky people.

i love how the wish grows teeth while i sleep,

small sharp incisors nibbling at the edges of dreams,

until the dreams bleed,

and the blood tastes familiar.

i love how you say you understand me so well,

better than i ever could,

how you finish my sentences before i start them,

how you know what i need before i feel it,

and how i keep quiet,

because speaking would prove you wrong,

and i was taught that proving you wrong

is the same as breaking your heart.

and most of all i love

how all of this comes from love,

how the biggest lie still carries a faint metallic taste,

like old coins held too long in the mouth.

you swallow it anyway, night after night,

because spitting would mean

something irretrievable hitting the floor.