It happened again this morning.
And sometimes I think,
into my heart.’
My adder tongue rests in my mouth
as I refuse to turn
my rage on you like the Ripper’s blade. Splitting
a chasm deeper than these years of erosion. Yet the river
of your tongue flows,
source to sea. And I wonder
what have I done
to fill you with such malice
what can I do
to set you free from the gilded anger
you horde in your dragon’s cave heart? But with each spring
of rage, I know
I grow closer to drowning.