My curtains are on fire.
My cat has died.
Running water in my bath tub;
I'm lost in her drunken starry eyes.
Black tea in the kettle
is all over the kitchen floor.
The door is locked from the outside.
I'm drowning in her downpour.
She twists the knife in my thigh,
I'm the vast coral sea.
Pouring soothing whiskey at my wound
she says -
"Make love to me."
My therapist has been calling for a while,
If only he knew how I feel.
He says she is only a delusion
but believe me, she is real.
My torso is on fire.
I tell her we are going to die.
She laughs and draws on my face with glass,
I'm lost in her drunken starry eyes.