Because you two are the type to sit in your feelings
like teabags to boiled water.
And the kettle settles in the corner,
squealing into the air,
and you cower. Because the stove glows
which would be comforting typically,
but you’ve forgotten blue.
and you’ve been caressing its complementary.

You two are the type to hug the edge of a failing lifeboat
when land is visible in the distance.
When you are aware that sharks are below the water,
You would still dive deeper.
But you would drag the other down with you,
not because you are scared of being alone,
but because there is no one else you would trust.

Legally ambiguous, the lot of you.
That’s what I think about you.
From blood on hands
to scorched borax upon the ground
and ice crawling up cuffs,
technicians digging through dumpsters
and cat cafes with dark offices.

Confidential files shoved through alleys.
Pinkies linked through blood.
And above all,
revelations in an ocean of tears.