it all leaked out of me
in the quiet
in the room
in the minutes
that came then
him sitting
in his half-stuffed
half-unstuffed
easy chair
shifting his leg
nursing his jaw
with the cold side
of a warm beer
me like a sparrow
rocking
on the bench
by the window
anger swimming
in me but
slowly slowly
swimming off
to somewhere
else
and then I thought
the candlelight was
so I wouldn’t see
how hard I’d really hit him
how I’d hurt him
and my chest tightened up
and I choked down
something
but he looked up at me
the flame was low
between us
little sphere of light
round pale moon
shading half
the shadow of his face
and while the pus-white
wax pooled to the rim
of the saucer
the sad black wick like
some last man standing
he used his words