virago

 

when I forget how anger tastes,
I place a penny under my tongue,
caress my wounds,
listen -

when we fought you screamed:
stop crying, stop crying!
I’m the one who should be crying.
but you never did.

she has your eyes.
it might be the colour of love,
those eyes,

if you could have killed me,
you wouldn’t have.

you did not dream of flights of stairs,
me, eyes closed, listing at the top.

you do not rage, no,
too much energy, embarrassing how
the neighbours are whispering behind their
hands that I have enough anger for both
of us.

I smoked three cigarettes in the truck waiting for you.
to not meet their roving eyes, I chain-
smoked, lighting one cigarette from the other,
until my bones trembled

next time,
leave the keys