Sabel Bloom

I was alone
noon light sliding in like it was scared to stay
iron chair biting into me
three apple slices on the plate
edges turning rust
softening into something almost sinful

and I thought
that’s your skin
exactly
the way it gives itself to air
the way it darkens
and still ends up sweeter

people keep throwing the word beautiful at you
like it’s enough
like it could ever hold you
they never see how you move
slow
certain
like the last chess piece
that knows it’s already won

I see though
I see the small things
the half-second your lashes drop
the way your breath catches
when you think no one’s listening
the tiny scar on your wrist
that only shows in certain light

you’re the moon
wearing all your own clouds
and i’m still here
watching fruit go bad
just to understand
how something can rot
and still be the most gorgeous thing
in the room

even if you were less beautiful
(which you never could be)
you’d still be
so much beautiful
it hurts
to look
directly
at you

~Armaan