with sharp nails

she dug me
like I was

made of dirt
scraping away

my skin
reaching my

red drips

I stained
the carpet

abstractly

I was to be
punished

for my temper
the rage of

the rejected
the fire lit

so quickly

by the words
I heard with

my ears or
my mind

i loved you
when the sun
still rose in the west,
when caterpillars
hadn't grown
their wings yet.

i loved you
in cherry lips—
in almond kiss,
in dreamy eyes,
in youthful bliss.

now, my distant heart
could only love you
in heavy mist,
in forlorn might,
in fleeing light,
in vague hindsight—
of what was right.