You left me stumbling around with
my underwear in my hands.
Seething with shame,
pressing my thighs—
I’d forgotten how to clot.
I’d lost my footing.
You caught me with sharp fingernails,
laid me bare and bruised,
thin skinned and
not just naked, but
stripped.
Stripped like bleach,
with a chemical taste
and a branded throat.
Nothing burns like being held
by someone who can’t remember
that my eyes are brown.
I wish I never gave you the graces
of flesh, of bone,
what was left of my body.
And if I’m doomed to carry my underwear
by my side for the rest of time, then
forget the rest of me too.