She rolls out of bed. With the blankets wrapped around her. Around her dragging like the. Virgin's wedding gown. . There's a scarlet hourglass. At the base of her spine.
Maybe she'll snap her wrists doing cartwheels. Or her ankle dancing drunken at some rave. Maybe she'll go through a windshield. And have twinkling bits of lass stuck in her face.
Someday I'll find a way to win her over. She knows it's me calling again. Can feel her rolling her eyes. . These words I used to scream. From the rooftops.
In this two bedroom tomb. I'm sitting all alone. With the television static. And refrigerator drone. . I'm waiting for those blessed arms. That seem to wrap around me.