Like using a sonnet to hammer in a nail
Or a screwdriver to fix a haiku
All efforts to love you were inappropriate.
You show me the white lightning
That scars your ankle
Tell me everything
I don’t need to hear as if honesty
Is a crowbar that opens redemption.
Like using a cloud to staunch blood loss
Or a fist to represent tenderness
All our efforts to make sense
Became mere sensuality.
I show you the wound
Your scalpel-memory has left
You measure how much deeper
It needed to go to kill me.
Like using a wrench to adjust a renga
Or a poem to chisel a dovetail joint
All my meaning is lost on you.
You speak to me in a language
Cut from a block of ice
Cold and dissipating at
Today has turned into a funeral.
I will dress your issues in my own
Use our shadows as a tourniquet.
Bury love in a trench with quicklime
Use sentiment to carve a headstone
Say goodbye without ever
Actually saying goodbye.
Should I confess
I am a clock suddenly sentient
And dreading the slow unwinding.