My bare feet,
stand on your chilled tile floor,
frozen in time.
my head is spinning,
blood coursing my veins,
adrenalin tingling at my fingertips,
raising the hair on the back of my neck.
my ears holding tight to
every
last
assonance.
sweetly prickling my skin.
fingers clench,
unclench.
knees weak,
like the ceiling,
like the walls,
like the cool tiled floor,
beneath my worn and wasted feet.
I tasted every word that was said,
and so felt every stinging blow.
I heard every feeling, and every thought,
splashed out onto your chilled tile floor,
like the purest make of water.
and i smiled at you
all the while,
because I knew it had been well worth it.
the tile chilling my bare feet,
and the assonance of the
slammed door
still ringing in my ears.