You never lied to me. You said your love wouldn't last forever, and that you were too pure for this world. At the time I thought it only words, a wasp in the night that would freeze with the first autumn frost. But your wasp never died. You kept it locked away in a jar inside yourself, and as the days dragged to months and to years you let it eat away at you.

Me and you. We weren't just lovers. We were two people trying to lick away the dirt.