Carnage

You take my hand, lead

Me to the bedroom, and soon

We are covered in blood.

 

Showering later you say

Something kind about my face

And I think: Your face is

A tyrant, your body

A thundering cavalry –

And when by text

However long later

You ask if after

Having lost you

I’m ok, I write, Shattered

That we made real

What I'd most feared.

You probably thought

Upon reading that and now

Upon reading this: He

Has a penchant for self-

Pitying melodrama. You

Wouldn't be wrong, but

 

I remember your hand,

Your blood, your sighs,

The sight of your hair

Wet with sweat across

Your cheek while writhing

bloodsmeared beneath me,

Around me, you were,

For an infinite

Moment, mine.