My First Marriage


Clumsy, you
dropped hedge clippers
in the bathtub:
a dull chink under bluish water,
sparse bubbles, my bare legs.

They did not snag
but slid past my skin.
You walked out
& I didn't ask
if you meant to hurt me.

I pulled the drain & stepped
out; I left the shears.
They rusted open, mid-cackle,
a bill of violence & intent,
immobile in low puddles of water
on porcelain, a few strands
of my long hair curling, thin worms.  
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