come any nearer,
and išll make this knife talk,
swear it in your guts, cut you up
and make you dinner
for the dogs,
which is what you are
and where you belong.you dare say you love me,
knuckles again at the ready?
do you know my small hours
in the park, the small steps
to inch your damage off,rosary holding down the tremor
in my palms, watching summer children
and their lengthening, laughing shadows
lashing my heart?no, i am no longer your wife.
i will not put it down.
it is my voice now.
I will not be put down.Published in Broken by the Rain (2003)
Last Modified: 5 September 2003