The root of the word “decadent” is “decay”
All day I curl up against the wall with black coffee, reading your old copy of Dorian Gray. I wait for December dusk, the top side of the feather duvet frosting my fingertips. Hiding away, I carve this trench in your room, persistent as rain. I push past gossip murmured by these walls, of who else slept in this bed that now holds my body’s shape. […]
Melancholy Hyperbole 