did you call her your sunflower
and in the creases of her skin
spell out love
like a liability,
the hum of two bodies pressed together
not knowing the name of the other,
with a taste like the word please
and thank you?
did you make her a bath
and drown her,
all of her,
slick skin
and bruised hips
and wet hair
and broken heart
and pendulum eyes
her?
did you soak your soal
in vodka
and wash out the taste of her,
the colour she dyed your hands
and mind
and the woodwork of your bedroom,
the promises
that made you warm
on such a cold, stormy night?
when you set the room on fire,
tell me,
was it you
or your love
that burnt down first?