Menage Monday Week 33

I test a ragged inhale through my lungs, but the oppressive heat stifles, the air a heavy weight pressing on my chest.

And you – you recline against the scaffolding, watching the sky turn to shades of charcoal as the moon eclipses the sun.

I see you through the sliver of window I have cracked open, torn between wanting to let cooler air in, and keep you out. You are as beautiful now as you were the moment you walked away from me – limbs tanned and lean, stretched out along the metal rungs that cling to our building.

But no amount of space will keep you from my thoughts. You have branded me, embers of what was left now etched into lines of heartache on my skin.

Helpless, drawn as much to you as to the ring of fire that outlines the moon, I push the window open. Climbing outside, I curl into myself on the terrace next to yours. So little distance separates us, but you feel miles away.

Until you speak.

“I didn’t want this,” you whisper, eyes full of remorse.

And then, like the phoenix, rising from the ashes of our broken love, I am reborn.

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