Miss Havisham Moonlights …on the Next Episode of Marriage or Mortgage?
The water is out again
and I am
on my knees I beg you—
you snap back—
I snap, too. I have started
snapping faster. I have entered
the conversation of where
will we be
at any given moment. I am almost
thirty-eight and all of my hair
is self-hacked.
I am so fat now, patches
of stark colorless fur over
-take my skull and my gentle
wedding hat is sitting in a box
in a garage
somewhere, the delicate wedding
dress adorned with strange snakes
and giraffes
is filling with mold—wadded
into a ball—it’s too late
to invite anyone I would have.
At the very least
we could still
get the hell out of here before
we’re both dead.