and let you crawl onto my back,

like dogs mounting.

I picked you.

I picked you up

and carried you

to Dallas, to Paris, to heaven

and hell. I sewed you

into a cape I wore – love swaying ,

sliding across my back at all times,

silk in some spots, rough, worn

down in others, the texture

as uneven as a 7 or a 13.

Sometimes we cannot walk

in a straight line,

no matter how sober we are.

Words drool

out of our mouths

without thought. We let

them stain the pillows

we sleep on every night,

and we are too lazy to wash them.

You look over, breathe

as though your oxygen is heavier

than mine. The lust is palpable,

an orange I want to burrow

my teeth in, squeeze

the flavor out until only the rind

remains. I want to mate

with you like a mantis, bite

your head off when I am done

so I never have to hear you

complain again. But we cannot stop

the movement

of memory,  it will play on,

repeating the same lines I have heard

over and over again. I love you but,

I love you but we cannot escape.

We are fighting in a war

We did not sign up for,

and only we can decide

the strategy. Whether to tuck and roll

when the bomb hits, or run

towards it, smiling wildly

for reasons no one else would understand.