How Could You Love by Joseph Di lella

another, with me
so near, so oblivious to the obvious,

but I know
I am sensitive enough to hear
the wind hollowing in the canyon
where the coroner finds his body
swinging from an oak limb
higher than the kite you flew gracefully
as a child near old MacDonald's farm.

This one, with wrists tied behind him,
eyes crusted over with grit, sand
cut down like a prize turkey hanging
at Frank's Bait, Bullets and Bakery Store

was taller, stronger than the others.

Sneaking, peeking inside
the mortician's hideaway
where the corpse rests, veins drained
blood seeps inside a rusty gray tray
a ghoulish feast for vampires
who need his fluid for sustenance
like you did just days before.

How could you leave me
for the dead
of heart?

Did he make love
longer, filthier
sweatier, sweeter
than me?

Returning by horseback

listening to the stars scream at me

I shout and warn them to stop

before I pick up the shredded noose

a gift

for every other poor soul
who falls into the same trap

from the black widow

that only I can offer refuge from . . .