Glass (Crank 2)

out at the stars. Where

is Trey? I want to tell

him I’m sorry.

Want to have “make

up sex.” Want to make

everything okay again.

Stable again. More stable.

Minus baby makes two.

I Am Still by the Window

When he stumbles in. Wasted.

Like me. We don’t bother with

words, instead collapse into bed,

shedding clothes as we go.

Finally, sweaty and shaking,

I whisper, “I’m sorry. Oh, God.

I don’t want to be without you.”

The same hands that only hours

ago hurt me now caress me. I’m

sorry too. He lays his fingers into

finger-shaped bruises. Perfect fits.

I can’t believe I did this to you.

Why do I hurt you when I love

you so much? Am I crazy?

We both know why, but we

don’t dare admit it. What would

we be if we did? “We’re both

crazy. I don’t care, as long

as you’re with me. Kiss me.

Make love to me, hard. Don’t

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