Choose The Right Victim

When I met you I knew you would take everything
I hoped you would
stories of an everyman's
epic
spilled from your colorless eyes
and skillful tongue
told tales of Odysseus' journey
out of south Jersey.

In and out of beds,
or at least that was
the eloquent way of putting it
I used to recite you poetry
from memory
sometimes mine
sometimes what I wish were mine
but it was never an accident
and I knew you'd fall into
the only love you knew how to give

When I asked you to hold me,
I told you to hold me down
and you looked at me with
that same brief glint in your eye
of nervous fascination and disbelief
like when you were telling me stories,
on one hand proud,
on the other, not entirely believing yourself.

I just wanted to give you what you always wanted
permission to inflict wounds on purpose
visible, like blue and purple outlines of continents
on my thighs
I wanted you to look on what you'd done for once
and be proud
and take credit
It's hard to argue with
what's right in front of your eyes.

You are so unbearably
like everyone but you try,
you create someone else
for which I am so endlessly thankful
I do the same for you
and it is an exhausting game
but not without its little victories,
like the first time I saw
the color of your eyes,
when they widen,
like the look of a
mistreated animal
who never grew quite as big
as he imagined.

-J