Jane Eyre moment
I was feeling like your
crazy wife in the attic,
though you were
on your cell phone with the actual one,
anyway—
I was in black and blue,
with a barbed wire heart spitting
fire round my neck.
I was feeling white-hot
for the husband below—
the fictional moment of you,
at odds
with the gloom outside, so
very viande
and white-collar
so unlike the other,
with his face scarred
and overcast.
but hey,
Jane and I need to
break out of unachievable ardors,
they’re boring and overdone
and beneath us both.