i think it's bad luck to say your name, too
when you introduced yourself, it was loud and you repeated your name twice (i smiled and said it back, a confirmation, a dream, a prayer)
and i started to fall, slowly
but i did also fall, clumsy as ever, as you walked me home and you laughed and carried me the rest of the way
and i started to fall, slowly, in love
with the idea of love, with the idea of power
and once i got a taste of what it felt like to rule, i couldn't stop breaking the rules
i was MacB, lusting and craving, and repeating your name at every chance i got, like a chant, like salvation
and when you said my name, i felt every laugh i'd ever laughed warm my body and sing until my ears were filled with kaleidoscopic pleasures
and then i hit the ground, too tired to run
and your name echoed through the glens and i was alone
and i felt the full effects of the Scottish hero's pain
and i drank
and drank
drowned
down
but every protagonist becomes the antagonist eventually, and you let me drop
and so i think your name is the cursed one
boys are bad, both fictional and nonfictional, dead and living, king-killers and heartbreakers
