an unrehearsed universe

In the Spirit of Generosity

A little education is a dangerous thing, she wrote. 

Instead of saying
the dismal necessity of self-preservation pushes me
to run as fast as my legs will allow

I can say the lugubrious exigency of this unreciprocated passion
compelled me onwards

hopeful that by the time you dig out a thesaurus
to parse together my meaning

I will be far enough that his domineering and your acquiescence
can no longer fill me to the brim
with unspoken, unspeakable pain. 

The wet spots on the letter were tears or so I imagined
reading her letter over and over as though the mere act of reading

could conjure her into life

could banish the shadows that tightened the noose
around the fragile summer-scented skin I buried my face in
one enchanted evening of tequila shots and gleaming white lines

where she said, “I love you,” and I said, “I know,”
accepting as my due her full-fledged adoration. 

Ironic that she is the only person who would appreciate
the gallows humor. 

“Such an unusual method for a woman,” the responding officer said. 
But she would never have dabbled with pills or razors
when neater methods exist. 

He sounded almost admiring at how well the scene was set
before turning briskly professional
snatching your words from my hands without a by-your-leave. 

I did protest then
stringing together incoherent words that meant
“no, you can’t take that from me, it’s mine”

which were properly ignored. 

“This is evidence, miss,” a kindly young tech said
attempting to make up for the brusqueness of his senior officer.
“We need to get it to the lab.” 

I was hustled out of the room like an unwelcome guest
to be interviewed at leisure when the detective work was done.

Evidence of a disturbed mind most would say
but I knew for what it was:

a grandiose declaration of love.