a woman, holding her breath

 

I was writing a poem in the car.
I was writing a poem with words like goddamn
and no and
please,

I was thinking about how you looked when the dark settled
lightly against our faces, one side of your mouth turned up, the other
down

how I caught my toe in the edge of that thought and fell,
lightly,

just fell.

violence holds your hands,
pats your arm understandingly,
asks nothing.

I was writing a poem in the car.
I was listening to the person I love say,
tree, light,
bell,

as if they were
prayers.