On Saying No

Why refuse? You bleed love to feed me

and paint me with your sweaty palms,

but would I confuse the shade I've become?

with the dark-red splash on your furniture

the spider veins leaking from your notebook and

your lightning eyes

My remains, your heavy silences

swimming with moths and floodlights

Blame, not me, not you

     but going the distance

     our only existence