It took nothing to realize

she knew everything she

never let herself realize.

She always loved those

who didn’t deserve her.

The lesson here was:

             You never win

                          when

you’re searching so hard.

             We all break bread

in effort to not careen into

                             smithereens.

She carried an explosive in her torso,

which he dropped when he carried it

                           to bed, every time.

The light of the lamp

she held in-between her thighs,

but it went out so swiftly

when the power was shut

                            off

because he didn’t pay her

monthly bill of trusteeship.

I wish she could explain,

but when I do, it all sounds like

complaining, and she didn’t like to bitch.

 

—Heather Angelika Dooley © 2009