We danced under a crystal lit sky,
The lack of stars didn’t bother me,
I am far too used to love that’s half-hearted.

Your eyes meet mine,
The bond simmers, and I shiver,
I am reminded of why I let you ruin me for so long.

At seventeen, your golden eyes meant the world,
But today they look past me like a shroud of winter,
Losing you hits me all over again at twenty.

The glass of champagne explains the hurt,
As do the white lines you forgot on the bathroom tile.
The bruise from three years ago blooms again,
The drought in my eyes finally, finally ends.

Tears at eighteen taste like you,
Cigarette smoke and stale beer that made me want to retch,
But the memory of your last bruise – a kiss made it better.

When the music ceased to play,
The masks we wore fell away, and I saw you for who you were,d
A boy with infinite flaws, no longer my golden-eyed angel.

-Akhila Menon

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