Dante's Outer Circles
Posted: 09 Sep 2019, 18:05
It was the tinkling of cups
which disturbed you: sugar
and blackness, a spoon
for the madness.
Sometimes love looks like
getting your partner's coffee right.
I sucked at so many other things.
That September I wanted
to bring in the Devil's Ivy,
make cuttings for new rooting.
You had painstakingly trained
each vine to climb your rocker
and we joked about you overcome
by its bright green death-grip.
You told me it would die
if we put in on your night table,
and I didn't pick up on it when
your gaze held mine more than
a casual moment too long.
The surviving flog themselves.
There is a curse that allows
the memory to disgorge
every thoughtless act, each
unkind word ever visited upon
the dignity of the departed.
which disturbed you: sugar
and blackness, a spoon
for the madness.
Sometimes love looks like
getting your partner's coffee right.
I sucked at so many other things.
That September I wanted
to bring in the Devil's Ivy,
make cuttings for new rooting.
You had painstakingly trained
each vine to climb your rocker
and we joked about you overcome
by its bright green death-grip.
You told me it would die
if we put in on your night table,
and I didn't pick up on it when
your gaze held mine more than
a casual moment too long.
The surviving flog themselves.
There is a curse that allows
the memory to disgorge
every thoughtless act, each
unkind word ever visited upon
the dignity of the departed.