On The Rocks

You get in the way
of my pain.
like a child walking into the road
in the restless rain

when my car’s spinning out of control
‘tho the road is straight,
and the potholes are full of the light
that retreats from my face. 

You get in the way
of my pain
your desires
your strain

in the life that glides over your skin
like sheets made of silk
But you can’t pull that over a woman
who wears all her kills.