Black and White (from August)

I thought I was done writing about you, maybe

A sonnet here or there or a love poem for our wedding

But never for this ice you injected into the something

Borrowed, something blue, of my veins

But I was the one who held up insides over head

Guts gold sparkling like a championship belt

But delicate as a tennis bracelet

I presented the slender palor of my inner arm 

I said hey slim, pick your poison and plunge whatever 

Fatality into me you please 

And maybe I’ll die pretty 

We’ll always have downtown Austin, we’ll always 

Have the modem art museum in Denver 

We’ll always have this home we built, even

If it wasn’t always 50/50, even if sometimes it was 1950 

And I was so tired of trying to do all the housework by myself

While simultaneously inventing feminism

I should’ve made you carry me over the threshold

The way you made me carry the team 

To think, out of all the doormats in all the world

You walked into me