at the violet hour
when your eyes turn to me
like a vulture preying
i hear your voice like
sawdust spraying
off the back of the blades
you’re making your way towards me
i duck i run i put the distance
between us
it’s never for pleasure
like a game of chess
and no one’s the winner.
your slurred words call out
for one more moment
but i know, i know…
at the violet hour
when i let you in again
your chainsaw talons on my skin
my breath sparks like a shower
mid-July, the tarot tower—
every city falls to ashes.
and i cry and i cry to Marie
she tells me it’s just your temperament
frigid and burning
you leave me turning in circles
creating a story out of silence:
i pretend you love me
at the violet hour
when the cars pull up the driveway
i see your truck shudder
your lazuli eyes to follow
i know you’ll fill me again
or leave me hollow.
a vermin on the roadside
to do with as you wish.