The Last Word
When was the last time they lay,
limbs locked, sweating and striving,
moans penetrating neighbors’ living rooms
till the whole block grinned at their earsplitting sex?
When was the last fight he knocked her around a bit
just to get her attention?
What was the date when she slammed
the dishwasher closed so hard the glasses shattered?
On what day of the week
did he last gently strangle her in bed,
cover her mouth with his hand,
smother and silence her until she came so hard
the double-hung windows rattled?
When did she last call him a sadistic bastard,
scream fuck him and his fucking Nazi family?
When did he last tell her he loved her?
When did she squeeze out the last love poem
behind his back before he shut her down?
Who had the last word?
When was the last time she thought
as he moved over her like an angel
and time slowed as he pushed her,
pushed until she’d sell her soul
if only he wouldn’t stop,
that she would never know
that it was the last time?