Ball gown scars itch with the memory of liquid pain spilled across your stage
I followed your midnight summon to suicidal promises broken by broken glass
No car could drive fast enough, and you fell asleep, headlights flooding
Your front door left to trudge the snowless winter’s edge, oh how you love the edge.
You swore you’d be a ghost by next summer’s dawn– sink stab or drown
You swore you’d take revenge on which stayed the poette’s hand–
Drunk on aspirin and German steel you sang metallic water through
your lungs and swore your absence
would leave ball gown scars.