6/19/07

we have a love that ebbs and flows--
it's vicious,
seething, vicious. when he curves away from me
like a hip, like a road,
like a baseball pitch, he arcs away, tightens like
a coil in the corner of his room
with the deadbolt locked.
I wish I had a fucking deadbolt, wish that
he would follow me upstairs and
wait outside my door the way I wait
for him, recluse, sleeping always, but
most of all I wish the night I met him
I had just stayed in the car.