The Devil's Harp

I want to wrap my fingers around
your slippery neck. Squeeze and
squeeze for every time you've shut
me up.

I want your eyes to go dry, to burn with need.
Roll into their holes, narrow with every
judgment. Every glance you'd spare.

I need your fingers to bend and break
at every angle. Under the hammer that knows.
Mangled and hanging in the way
you often left me. I want to bite
and take a piece.

I want to teach you.
Help you understand.
That I love you. I really do.
I'm just rough around the edges.
Frayed and reversed.
A troubled heart
you both molded and left to rust.
Sprawled about in the way your body
fits now. Bending and folding under that hammer.
It knows. Neatly pressing you into mismatched pieces.

You slip and slide around in a frenzied tango.
Your favorite porcelain tinted dark crimson hues.
You try to speak, but no words come.
Choking on apologies I only hear when
I make them up. I'd like to think that this hurts me
as much as it hurts you.
That this puts us closer together.
Makes everything alright.

And it does.
Because when I hold you near, nothing more
needs to be said. And I just hold you.
Coddle you until you still, cooing into your ear.
And I pray.
Until you finally
close your eyes.