Things to Know if You are to Love Me



i.
i don’t remember the first time i cried but i know the last it’s the memory of a hand on the stove letting it pass until my fingers sing sing sing of you and i can’t explain why i covet the pain it just is
it just is like the scar on my chin or the checks in the mail or the rain on my birthday every year spring showers begin but the water wont make me new

ii.

i am told i have a temper like a god i love with a paroxosysm of pride it’s exhausting intoxicating a drug that you inhale not inject and lingers when you make love without love all that remains is to make
an empty glass with no water

iii.

when I was little I opened the doors and they never quite closed and at first only small things entered like bees that stung my chubby torn knees; and then came the shadow man. he stayed long enough to throw me onto the bed cradle my head and tear my silk nightgown to pry me open and see if anything was left inside yet ive long forgotten how to close my door for i no longer live alone

In Response

‘You are dark like me’ you say, holding your hands against my neck. and i see myself become devoid of light.

Jules Schulman lives and writes in LA