Erstwhile

I forgot what it was
I loved so much about you,

was it your hair that bunched
and jumped and glittered
like a black tiger, or your

eyes, too large for any face,
that seemed about to weep
at peculiar secrets (lost keys,
the condom that slipped, that
child you hurt long ago
with your hand during recess).

No, it was your mouth – full
of sharp, wicked teeth, wide
and red as the mark of a slap,

your mouth that beckoned,
whispered, shook my hand then
pulled me close, your mouth

that sang a two part harmony
of disgust and longing, but
you bitch, you cunt, it was
your tongue that did us in.