Down, right down
Like wax off a candle
My skin. On fire, as it were-
Flesh of a hue, Burnt Umber
Care of you.

Twas the unintentional intention
The slap on the knee
The cigarette poised between two fingers
The frantic dripping eyes

Sweetheart, I disappoint
This wine with which I anoint
Your forehead, your chest-
Was too warm.
It left shiny scars and heavy breathing, sliding

Down, right down
Things could have (should have?) been so different

She hopped into the saucepan
With the other jigsaw pieces
Masticating the cardboard
Until, until, it ejects out of her mouth as
Moist and mangled as swamp muck

The theatrical comeback, the final embrace
The tears, the begging
The teddy bear crayons and
A pathetic, puny stream of words as weak and inconsistent as yourself
Inflaming her four year old heart.