it’s dark
three people sit on a couch, watching the movie
displayed on the tv.
once again, no dvd player is necessary, or even
available.
to your credit, you saw much more this year, though you said
much less;
you’re all over inconsistent in your
accidental traditions.
laughter bubbling up inside of you, to spill out in anxious words and phrases and breaths too fast too shallow and

three people sit on a couch.
you’ve whispered under your breath the words you said loudly last year
the shame curled inside you
wound up
a music box you wish you could rip out because you hated it then and you hate it now only
you couldn’t say anything and that hasn’t changed and

three people sit on a couch.
are they even paying attention?
are you?
why is it only in the dark you know what day it is and why you’ve been crying all day and

it’s dark
two people lay on a couch, and the feeling rushes in
reminders
of something  that happened too fast, too public, too
out of your control
impossible to refuse --
-- after all, you wanted it, right?

no
you knew that was wrong
so why did they tell you they didn’t want it
after pushing you down and forcing their hands into places they shouldn’t have been
why did they tell you they didn’t want it
and then go right back to doing it all
again