you are a cacophony in my headMature

You are a cacophony in my head.

I know you better than the wrinkles in your sheets,
you’re an algorithm I’ve had tattooed to my palm,
you’re a terror with a whiskey glass, you’re a monster
with hypnotic talents.

I once told you that fingerprints are labyrinths to the soul.
Later, I caught you pulling prints off tumblers, holding them
up to the afternoon light pooling in the windows, tracing the pattern
into your sketchbook.

The End

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