Chapter 1

 

I gave you

A young bull,

An iron sickle,

An alibi.

 

You gave me

A wicked sneer,

A roguish tongue,

False concern,

A shaking admiration,

A gentle pain, impune.

 

I turned the other cheek to your ritual slaughter and you gave it some color.

I gave you a chance to clear your thread of fiction and you wrote me another.

 

Chapter 2

 

I remember

we broke bread

I broke my back

and you broke your smile into

two different corners

turned up and down.

I broke down my own doors and cornered

the splinters and you shattered,

stained glass and your shine

was tentative as it was sharp.

 

Chapter 3

 

I'm sure that one day you will aim

To hold over my face the richness

Of red meat, jewels in the flesh,

Shimmering, dripping iron.

You once told me you'd gladly share with me

The fruits of your struggles.

But who handed you the sword?

And was your shield?

 

Epilogue

 

Having received a generous dose of hellfire,

We are now allowed to shake free

The singed crest of feathers we never bore proudly.

Shedding in sunlight:

Our primordial grime,

And previous crimes.

We are,

And are at,

Tipping points.