fading out with each rhetorical question
on the cutting board
keeled over before a threat was articulated
senses failed and I got high off of your body pressed
against mine
with flames on our lips
we could have given up so easily
and why didn't we
we were both so young
too naive to chase a single whim
rambling on about our own anxieties
comparing scars
the night the clouds came in
and I couldn't think anymore
and the downpour
I couldn't hear you
it sounded and felt like gunfire
pointed downward
the downpour
the violence of letting go