Hellbent love

I recall on a run some late afternoon before I moved away

Being surrounded by scorpions in a flat park with the oppressive, low hanging sun.

I was so sure I needed to leave you before you sucked me into the vortex of half bitten aspirations, just two big fish swimming in a fish bowl.

And years later when I came back, I felt at home in your arms in the middle of nowhere downtown.

I traced the kewpie on your inner bicep, wondering whatever had possessed you. 

Did you know the mayor had an angel statue for each of his children in his yard? 

In the middle of the night one was destroyed, and in the morning his youngest son was dead.

You told me you’d never love like that again.