For Sam
First off, we never
agreed to it. You promised—
well, you didn’t but
you said, and to say
is as good as to promise—
you would tell me if
you had plans to leave
me forever. So you lied.
And now you are gone
and the world makes no
sense, except I have to make
it make sense. There are
papers to sign and
debts to repay; there is no
rebate for heartache.
Why did you go? What
did I ever do to you
except love you hard,
and ask you to love
me as hard back, until we
could not love any
harder. It was hard
not to love you, too easy
to love you—and then,
one-two, you tricked me.
And now I’m wearing your shirts,
huffing your pillow
cases, unpacking
your suitcases, looking for
the belt you affixed
around your neck. No:
This thing you have done, I did
not consent to it.