When you said the word ‘relapse’, my heart
split like a ripe plum whose flesh blustered
to the stone, ripped like a face from its head-bone
in a holocaust movie, and the stone itself
dried and then reached down its taproots
so, your courage took hold of me
the cyanide of swear words
gurgled in my throat
for I had sunk to ripped-jeans knees
and pleaded for you in vain
You took all responsibility,
It was I who could not stand
(the most horrible thing imaginable had happened)
in the room and banged fists
in the cold ceramic of the washroom
fuming, why, why why?
