Did he kiss it a kiss he never kissed me,
With lips and tongue, bitter and hard?
Or was it a peck on the jaw, right under the chin,
Hot skin meeting cold metal?
Definitely not a lover’s caress of the temple
For he was no more stupid than sentimental.


Blood and brain guts
Pollocked across the sheets
Soaking into the unfinished headboard–
Drops of ruby peppering the walls–
Eyes vacant, like ***** dishwater


A kiss from you would have been a gun to my lips–
Perhaps I dodged a bullet
When you decided to love yourself more than me.