How to Fight

You were gaining weight. You were

a slow continent, moored to

my feet. "We have reasons,

we have reasons, so we

say-"

That day, by the

supermarket, your plastic bag

sputtered two bottles of wine

and one jar of tomato sauce

on to the floor. No warm

dinner, no happy glow-

It looks like a crime

scene, you said. The wind

interrupted. Oh, crumpled

afternoon. I stared at my

shoes; you already

knew.