Supermarket

Fluorescent on your collarbone

Too sharp, too clean

That cut jaw, those vacant eyes

Like something I’ve seen before

Your shirt falls right on your frame

Like it always does

I step in close enough

To almost trust

Your hand on my wrist — steady

But it doesn’t press

I wait for something to shift

It doesn’t

That face

Different name

That pull

No weight

It tastes like a supermarket

Sweet with no trace

I hold it on my tongue

Like it might mean something

Then it wipes away

Almost lands

Almost stays

Then it slips

Same again

Your skin is warm but distant

Like it’s been rehearsed

Every move lands perfect

Nothing hits first

Another body brushes past

That shape, that line

Eyes check me for a second

Then slide

Same again

I lose you for a second

You reset

Same again

Your mouth is right there on mine

But it never breaks

I stay just long enough

To feel it fake

That heat

That touch

That start

No rush

It tastes like a supermarket

Bright and erased

I hold it on my tongue

Like it might turn real

Then it dissipates

Almost lands

Almost stays

Then it hollows

Same again

Everyone looks perfect

Until they don’t

Everything connects

But it won’t

I keep letting it happen

Like I always do

Something in it

Almost comes through

It tastes like a supermarket

Clean to the bone

I hold it on my tongue

Just long enough

To feel it gone

Almost lands

Almost stays

Then it empties

Same again

That light

That face

Just like that

I’m still here

In the same place