delivery

You showed up on my doorstep

You were drunk and you had flowers.

You didn’t have any manners.

(Neither does your father.)

Your face was pinched.

You waved at me with your shoulders.

Your Virtues sighed and dripped curled up

rested on your bottom lip.

You were crying a little bit

No one was telling you to stop,

So you were going on in circles.

Circular logic and splitting ribs

From how silly it all is.

You Showed up just to fall down.

With you, this time I was the woman.

A black eyed wet little whip of a thing

That was born on the knees.

So I looked away

I gave you back your sweater

(It would take too long to burn it.)

I still remembered the shape of the shadows

The porch light burnt into your skin. 

The shut door was angry with you.

I could tell. I felt guilt.

The front door told you:

Shut yourself back up.