gunpowder

You wasted, devastated man

you said to me I love you

and I reached for the razor

out of habit.

There's nothing soft 

or safe

in your voice

it's not love as in lovely

or hearts as in Valentine's day

or flowers as in first date bouquets

it's love

as in tennis

as in zero, as in nothing

it's hearts as in the cadaver cardiac

flowers as in deflowered and repotted with gunpowder 

irrigated with formaldehyde
and black-eyed tears
Before I met you, I used to wear skirts
now I fear the cloth
that lets me move too freely
that pretends both at freedom and at modesty
but never commits to either
like you
I used to wear my heart on my sleeve
and let my legs do all the hugging
until my mother banned me
from wearing skirts
or anything with sleeves.

you said to me

I love you

and my eyes closed in a moment of silence

for all the casualties

of the war
that you're about to bring down upon
my gunpowder garden.