i crave you.

just like i gave you
my word
that i wouldn't call you
at three a.m.
hoping that you would
in a sleep-induced stupor
take back all those cruel things

that you never said.

why did we marry in the first place?
when we could have had brand-new red lights
full of flight and fury and sound and wind
with none of these burdens and children

and blowing leaves all scattered through our brightness.

your pen of doom hovers over our joint checking account.
you type our expenses into loving spreadsheets detailing our rendezvous
not in paris, nor portugal.

how did we get to this place?
where the snow crackles beneath my slim fingers with too loose
ring edging slowly off.
where light only seeps into the edges of our days.