All I knew was that I’ve changed.
I went back.
Who was I?
I guess I will never remember who I really am.
And we were home.
We had grown up with memories of old friends
and the smell of roses.
So we imagine I hadn’t fixed what I’d said or done to her.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
He was lying.
Neither one of us could remember anything good.
Iron ivy snaked in.
It decided to take his wedding ring.
So it goes.
His wife doesn’t know.
I told her.
We had a lot of friends.
The nicest, the kindest, and funniest was my wife.
I don’t know what we are now.
Late at night, I telephoned.
That must have been the last year,
I cannot recall.
I had to stop and think about it for a while.
You ruined my health.
And I’m reminded that one time, it would be easy.
I believe that, too.
So then I understood.
She thought I had made her a promise.
If I ever do give you my word, I’ll become a delusion.
I had a low opinion of sordid motives of blood, tears, and romance.
I slept that night
and hoped that this will give a lasting impression.
I had succumbed like rain.
We lose everything.
The devastation was boundless.
I say to Sam now, “There is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre.”
Everything is very quiet.
Except, the birds say “Poo-tee-weet?”
My sons take part in massacres.
Companies make massacre machinery.
People think we need machinery like that.
Thousands of people are killed as a wonderful dialogue outlined the end.
And I was dead.
All the lines stopped,
the rain was over.