I sincerely wish I could efface it.
Drag you an unmarked body of snow
like a dog with a blanket in its jaws.
A tape you don’t have to rewind,
black film clinging to your fingers.
Wouldn’t you like to live in a world
where I don’t arc our car onto the hinge
of the ravine? Wouldn’t you like to lay
in a bathtub without a firework of vomit
drawn across the bottom? You could
sleep through a night that I didn’t
judder you out of, my eyelids half-mast
for violet skies, male shadows, a knife
dangling from the half-clutch of my mouth.
You could raise champagne flutes before
spilling cornucopious, drink with someone
who doesn’t lave at the rim for the last
bit of liquor. Don’t you understand
that you could pry open the bloodied
gullet of this trap? Yank its teeth
from the ditch in your thigh? Until then,
my body hovers above yours. We will
pretend that your fingertips skim off
my hips without falling across scars.