Used To Love Him

Used to love him, had to kill him
Didn’t drive the stake in deep
His pale fist has just cracked the plywood
Help.
The worm wakes in the tinder, taxes are due on Friday
Horses and children need new shoes this season
It’s an inconvenient time for dying
Though what time isn’t.
The priests told me that love is sacrificial
The chemists claim that hardened sugar coats an acid
But what I feel like is the aftermath of sheet glass
Hard to negotiate and thinly scattered.
The king goes to the forest now, the witch unpins her hair
Sharp aftertastes of snow and lilies hang on in the air
The silver backs of fish reflect back omens
Old kitchen grease is fought over by dogs and lovers.
Listen. We all make mistakes
Knots slip apart, the key breaks in the lock
A pretty stranger comes to town, the sword beheads the cairn
The dead go in the wrong way, the ground coughs them up again.
I had to kill him, now I’m walking toward him
The candle in my hand is weeping
The very outline of his shoulders is a poem
And stars and owls peek out from behind it.
His fangs as naked as his feelings
He bows his head and lets himself be petted
This night is far too fine for paying debts and codependence
I say, love me again, and pinch the candle.

I’m worried that this may turn out to be my definitive poem on love and marriage.

As usual, you can reward my efforts here:

P.S. God help us all today.