There are a hundred things I can attribute to this.
Maybe it’s the broken wine glass on my floor,
Maybe it’s the unfinished prayer I started in the shower this morning,
Ropes taken months to wind tight unravel in a sigh and I,
Catch it in the nick of time,
Throw my body hanging off the other end so my weight will be a stopper,
Women – how are you not terrified?
Do you not see your fathers in the arch of his back,
Thousands of lewd men in the curve of his lip when he looks you up and down,
You want to separate silhouette from shadow but sometimes when he moves too quickly,
You duck a blow imprinted in years of memories,
So unbelievably human,
After I sewed angel wings into your skin,
After I washed your feet with holy water,
After I spoke to God over and over again to make me clean enough for you to lie down in,
I’m jolted when I realise that you too, need oxygen,
I have ripped myself open for lines of you,
The pain is my pleasure and I used to laugh at those who were
Clearly under some sort of spell,
But how could my heart get this big without magic?
And here I am, reduced to nothing but feeble, open arms,
So if turn your back on me,
With those hairline fractures gathering like clouds,
I will run until I’m free of your smell,
Until your molten chocolate melts off my clothes,
Until I’m lost…
And can never trace Home back to you again.