I would breathe
if I could but
that would mean
letting you go.

So I hold a
gala for you
in the echoes
of my mouth.
As you dance
across my palate
I begin to savor
the sweetness of you,

giving ill regard to
the pungent
bitterness that
dangles in the gallows
of my throat.

Light fades.

You oblige me as I
extend my hand to you
and we slow dance
as I exhale
into forever
and drift away
with you in my arms
and the peace
of knowing
I’ll never have
to let you go
again.

Lara Wilson

Lara Wilson

Editor at NY Literary Magazine
Lara holds a B.A. in Comparative Literature. She's a native New Yorker, an after-school English tutor, and a bookworm.
Lara loves photography and horseback riding.
Lara Wilson

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