The truth had been haunting your tongue
for so long, it silenced you.
Your shifting perspective cotton-woolled your mouth,
padding you out into muteness.
All our talk of the future
were my words, echoing off a room
you’d already left.
Your lyrics to our love
were all written
in the past tense.
You stood and listened
until I couldn’t breathe for trying,
so could you leave
with the fewest words possible.
I wish I’d noticed the slips.