The harder
He pulled,
The faster
She fell,
Lying to her
And himself-
Sweet
Stolen kisses
And
Painted
Facades:
Tinfoil
Stars,
Paper
Moons,
And
Brand new
Crayolas-
A playground
Built atop
An unhallowed
Grave.
The truth
Is revealed
In a tearing
Of veils,
Of blowflies,
And
Painful
Admissions,
A playground
Paved over,
Leaving
Two
Broken-winged
Angels
In their own
Private
Hells.