i cut my finger badly on
the edge of the shrieking
tin can -teeth like midnight in an
east coast blizzard -it bled for two days
like a letter to a lover.
I wrote about the empty corners of our bedroom where rage and joy once lashed forth and captured the unholiest moments of our time together.
Where sleep, scratched at the walls, and climbed up our legs like ivy in a storm.
Where promises were always kept
and safe words were the domain of
quitters and nonbelievers!
In the mornings we’d find notes from the neighbor, slid in through the bottom of our front door.
“Please stop, we have children.”
“And how the fuck did you make those children, motherfucker?”
At the time, that was the funniest thing I had ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth.
“-And by the way, we’re never getting our deposit back. “
And you were right
– You win.
I love and hate you enough
for the both of us now.
.