The Subtle Apocalypse

softly the zipper's teeth chew on our edges.

our remaining pieces stumble over each other.

we'd been wading so long in the flood that we hardly noticed ourselves drowning. 

hands pretend to hold. eyes feign to see.

time undoes its pants and waits for that eager grin.

knowing we're quite content with our shame. 

the world remains a pinhole through which we continue breathe.

our words quickly forget. but skin has a very long memory.

spiders simmering under the stroke of their webs. 

we'd always let the distance measure us.

because close was something we had always wanted.

that we could never be.