Screw your letter to the world; our replies came back, “return to sender” by Iris Brossard

    
                          Screw your letter to the world; our replies came back, “return to sender”
    
    
                          You broke me

                          when you claimed

                          you’d engineered your self destruction 

                          for my benefit,

                          and absolved me

                          of my failure

                          to save you from yourself.

                          Like Babel’s Cossack

                          who didn’t like to shoot a man because it was too impersonal,

                          and preferred to spend an hour

                          or more

                          kicking,

                          bludgeoning,

                          bashing,

                          because when you stomp a man to death, you really get into his soul.

                          It’s you,

                          the choke in my throat,

                          the slight fibrillation with each systole, 

                          whispering, I love you, I love you, I did this for you.

                          __________
                          Iris Brossard

                                                                                                                                                           

                                   

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