Her dancing shadow lingers 

In a room where she’s not there

A body’s presence remains of fingers

Felt all over, weaving through my hair

I do not want her 

The strange lover almost, uninvited despair

Something familiar about the nerve

Seeing something you cannot repair

At night, she strangles with efforts to preserve

Holds my mouth, draining the son

Hoping for words to match her body:

“We are one”

Tracing the curves of that face as it bursts into Party

Confetti glass raining down on my world

The reflection shards cut against skin 

I stop the bleeding, and what has become of that man?

He knows I am waiting, staring at the ceiling fan

Waiting whilst women rot inside him, he lives

Her singing voice lingers

In a room where she’s not there

A soul’s presence remains of songs

Felt all over, heard by my ears

I do not want her

The strange mother almost, uninvited despair

Something familiar about the desperation

Seeing something you cannot repair

During day, she begs me to stay her creation

Holds my head, draining the son

Hoping for thoughts to match my body:

“You are her”

And I run. Realizations, emerging bullets from a gun