Hungry Hands

You’re calm and cutting
I’m speaking softly in your passenger seat
On the finger points of deceiving, withholding, and the difference between
You crack a window, clear the air, meet quiet words with empty stares
I ask a god I don’t know to get us home before this car explodes
We smoked and burned black
Dripped like wax from the devil’s hands that pooled into something I’m told
resembled dishonesty
And with each word I stacked on top of the last I could feel you pulling so
slow and so steady away from me
Don’t put me away with your crossed out days and filled up spiral notebooks
Carefully placed on shelves in case you should care to take a new look
Your hungry hands held a home over my head, ripped at my clothes,
pushed into bed
We made so many ways to help ourselves forget
We smoked and burned black
Dripped like wax from the devil’s hands that pooled into something I’m told
resembled dishonesty
And with each word I stacked on top of the last I could feel you pulling so
slow and so steady away from me
Don’t be so sure that I’m overlooking details
Don’t be so sure I’ve got nothing left to say