I heard you sigh,
When I opened the door there
To the heartbeat.

Knocking, knocking, knocking. . .
Not doing anyone right now,
I can breathe out.

It isn't the feeling of summer
That makes me sting
Back on the left shoulder.

The face from my tattoos peel
Red ribbons trail off trees.
Put me out on a cloud.

Can these be the words
That will slip off of a limb
When the chainsaw speaks?

Will you hear a sigh too
When you make your bread
Somewhere else other than our kitchen?

It could be the worst, ****. . .
Decision still hanging by a finger
Nail the hammer on the tail.

One guess to see the lie.
Perhaps you said something else;
"Why didn't I stay?"