i might have woken up
detached myself from you
like a shadow leaving an object
detached myself from feeling
and remembering what feeling
the rationale lacking
some secret voice inside me
intense, stormy interpersonal relationships
my hips are not meant children
children crawling out of them
children tied to them
children clinging to them
staring up with wide eyes
staring up with nightmares in their eyes
the reflection of their mother in their eyes
i knew this wouldn’t work. you can’t get away
with having your point-five kids because someone
will eventually coming looking for the other half
and they’ll call DYFS when they find the mess
and what of you?
with a kiss, i could send you over the cusp
a whisper of breath to send you over the edge
there would be no coming back, you say.
we can never go back.