Door opens violently.
She stuffs all her belongings
(clothes, books, love letters, etc.)
into the empty drawers and cabinets
in my bedroom.
I'm afraid and also angry
and quickly remembering who she is.
I raise my head,
eyes passing over her body again,
hands stuffed into my pockets,
thumbing the seams and lint
as she howls into the ceiling.
I sit down on the edge of the bed,
arguing with myself, brain on fire,
and then take the beer bottle
from my bedside table
and ***** into it.
I retrieve the cap from the trash,
press it back onto the bottle
and place it in the refrigerator.
I go into the living room where she is now,
and I sit down and watch her,
pacing back and forth,
telling me she can't do this anymore.
So I laugh as a tear crawls up her cheek
and into her eye.
I feel all the iniquity flood back into my heart,
feel my worth diminish,
feel her wake beside me tomorrow and say,
"I love you."