You smell despair on me
hold my hair for me
as I rue last night’s Absolut
Bring me a rose
before I walk out the door
in a red satin dress
without you

I never asked for your devotion
Never scented myself with neediness for you
like an attar of roses
straight from Gehenna

Another night of those liquid blue eyes
burning into me
and I will be driven to a frothing madness
like a wild woman of the Bacchae
gnawing on a severed thumb