The Blackest Of Deaths In A Pink Box Poem by J. James Martinez

Paper clips
Piece together
The fragile
Paper masks
Tear easily

Long car rides
With
Long conversations
Unraveling revelations
Miles
Of memories smeared
Across dissolving retinas

Parked in front of a theater
In a conversation
I can't remember
Remember?

His fingers run through your hair
He
Whispers in your ear
And makes you laugh
Jealous?
Only when his hands
His fingers
Slide over your thighs

If my words
Were worth believing
Would you listen?
If my words for you
Were written in gold
I could buy you the world

You and I
We would live a screenplay
And dance the death away