I would write more, but

I would write more, but

I search for the one, true first sentence

and scratch through it in my head

before typing a word

When I begin,

I tweak as I go.

Bit by bit

Word by word

Until I’ve killed what I want to say.

I consider what I’ve done

You moan,

Coalescing in my screen

Peering between dead words

A ghost among tombstones

Full of rage

Elbowing letters

Grasping

Fingernails scratch against glass

Fists pound

Our mouths open and scream

I switch off the screen

It flickers to black

Your hand settles on my shoulder

I lay mine on yours

And tell you I’m sorry

That I loved you

Your fingers collapse in a cloud of dust

Your ring clatters on the hardwood floor

Accelerates as it twirls to a stop

I push back my chair

Skid down the basement stairs

Whisk the blankets off the axe

Drop it in the wash basin

And scrub it clean

again