With the coffee cup
strewn papers
and end
in mind
I write.
It’s the cup I picked at
on our first date
saved.
They’re the papers that
on that winter day
served.
It’s the end that
is in death
saved.
We haven’t begun the end,
just ended the beginning
Did I say enough
to get it all,
clean glasses and
wine masses?
The girl I wanted
was the girl I married
but not the woman
I ended up married to.
Did I make it clear
should you be near
that I would have you
away?
There’s a cherry stain on
your lips
that I want
to lick.
And a closet here
that we could fill
with our bodies
and our fights.