She painted the collars of her gloves
With a box cutter

We still do not know
Whether she was running a marathon
Toward Athena
Or screaming from her palms

The difference matters less
Than the price of milk
To a herd of cattle
But still
You have to wonder

When I asked you the truth
We were separated:
A flimsy footnote
Fewer years than I remember
A wall of hair dye
And one bastard of a door

I wonder now
If you remember lying
I wonder now
If you were

At times I hate you.
Some days I can only remember you.
The days between
Feel like teeth:
The soft
Fleshy part of my back.