The rain thrummed on the rusty red roof
while my mind wandered to the honeyed swaths
of mountains in small town Ukiah
where I will toil for the American dream
while you enjoy your pint of beer 6,900 miles away.
If we are not careful, in five years
I will arrive, scrubs tucked in my luggage,
stunned to find you bear-snoring
on another woman’s chest.
But don’t worry –
this Scorpio will take you back.
I will moan, just a wee bit
like you always wanted. Serve you coffee,
smile warmly. Make only subtle cuts on
your flesh with my deft pincers,
slip venomous desire into every pocket
until it spreads and leaves you
a hollow network of bones,
a wet match head devoid of dazzling flame.
In the cold dawn, I will
quietly shove my bags in the trunk
as your lonesome body shrivels in its sleep.
A vow is a vow is a vow.
You were once mine
and I long not to forget.