Rocket Fizz

Oblivion

your face was the sun in my sky.
i tasted
your flowers-and-cigarettes scent
on my bedsheets
when i pressed them into my mouth
to keep the sobs down.
to keep the orgasm moans
inside.

i smoked through our days
without touching the drug,
half-dreaming
your gentle fingers on the back of my neck
& wondering how your voice
could be anything but a figment of my imagination.

if i shut down it's because i'm coping.
it's because i'm clenching
my fists rather than shift through
the sand of our memories.
it's because our bright, shining things
must not be tarnished by the spit of my soul.

the wine was bad for me but i drank it anyway.
your lips were nightshade & i welcomed them.
i don't mean to suggest that you are toxic,
or evil, or at fault, what i mean is that
my constitution was too weak to push back
in the face of your nectar.

i should stop trying to explain myself because
there is no explanation for this.
i can't tell you why i feel nothing
but a softly stirring dread
when i tell myself that i cast out
the only flawless thing i ever touched.
i can't tell you why
i've sunk back into fear
instead of fortitude, or why
my reaction to loss is to be numb to it.

we were going to lie naked
in my childhood bedroom
& share a cigarette while
i stroked the marks the rope left
on my wrists.
if there is a chance, years from now,
that we can go back,
please, please tell me.