a trembling reaction to every way you fought to keep my hands in yours a fickle name to how your eyelids only leaked promises and how i only ever met your lips with broken glass you tried to pry the answers from my cigarette but you forgot that I buried your baby teeth in the backyard last summer one, two, count my fingers out the window like your swans almost in flight every creature passed under your embrace learned how to curve their wings up like forged protection from your spitfire
our teeth leak venom and motor oil, it tastes like how your fists feel against your children's skin when you wrap the women in chains made of expensive gifts and shattered promises, sometimes they clean their teeth and fight back.
maybe i won't remember to draw the curtains after you leave