You are too much of a dose, even on a wet, grey afternoon, when you are the sea and I the rocking boat, a merchant with the mold of the moon. You hold your breath, and I go blue. I compromise my thoughts to stand by your door. You see my vulnerability and slam it shut, so I can be brave while the world won’t be ignored— the Jack of Hearts and Lady Luck without the pretty makeup and haircuts. I melted down all the spoons into a ring. You want me to propose while killing a bull, pulling a song from the rain and spitting thunder into the valley while I sing. I’ll write it down for Tuesday in the brown book by the phone. We both know I won’t show. I left my backbone in the home on the hill, where the roses on the windowsill never die and our portraits gently cry. I liked it better when we chased each other and settled it all over tea. Who was the messiah, the betrayer, the witness, and the newfound glory to the earth? Something the people have outdated the worth of. In those moments of sinful conclusions, we were free. Now the cigarettes are put out in the mashed potatoes. The bottles, ripped of their labels. One empty table. One hundred pesos for a tip. Two lovers becoming strangers in different corners and haunted spaces, trusting only destiny to rebuild and fly its stolen lovers’ ship, so again we walk aboard— forever love and war.