listening raptly for a crescendo
that sounds more like

you've said this before

than something
like the desire to break
something that's perfect
could it be as simple as
something not being said here

last night i wanted to be-
to have a reason
as if this place

isn't real, and i'd rather

bruised for the first time in months
not enough not enough

stung by a belt across my back
not enough not enough

made you watch me beat myself
not enough not enough

i don't believe i'm the object
although i am an object

but not so perfect as to break
it's this unspoken thing

between us

this perfect silence
that lurks behind the words you

say you're interested in violence
&politely excuse yourself
when the sun sets