To the Bruises

we made our way
to an outcropping of bruises
in the dark they glowed
glossy black, black and blue
against the flat night
we thought they would shield us
between them hidden
from the endless, endless
web of consequences or worse,
indifference to our ruined lives.
in the dark, in my nerve cuffed joy
i did not count how many,
many selves i'd let loose
i did not count the reflections in the glossy black:
to the cleft she came first, desperate to steal
raised my own gun
steadier than i ever could
and blew a scream through your body
the size i couldn't tell
and through my face
big enough to be unsure it survived at all.
with nothing of me to save
she ran for the cliff side
as if it was not blacker there.
my only living self, finally
awake and all instinct, went after her
falling scent
the ghost of my jaw called her back
among the bruises
among our strewn outcomes
she lifted her throat as long as it would go
and cried into the black and blue
and against any reflection left.

jul 1, 2012