Much as the cheese
we bought together
has molded in the fridge
over time so too
has our romance
withered and died
It is a cold, forgotten
thing at the back
corner of a fridge
The small part
that still lives there
acquiring a bluish tinge
a visual reminder
of a toxic coupling
no longer tasted safely
you can no longer eat
you can no longer breathe
in fear of what
it might do to you.
