cold war

My knees felt flat against the hardwood, stuck like glue - stuck like you. Except for this time, I bore the punishment. 

I reached for the bottom of your sole but fell struck once again with a sting that was as sharp as glass. And to think, maybe I shouldn’t have made the effort to get there. 

My pain reminded me of bottle caps, the ones you lose underneath the kitchen table after drinking one too many. The way you twist and twirl me around with so much love and then, with a quickness, deceit. Your fingers were artillery and I had become the target.