During the final moments of our
wounded, hysterical love,
I found myself wanting to grab your shoulders and
shake,
grasp your face in my hands; even sink my teeth in
your flesh,
anything to pierce that tough unyielding membrane,
anything to make you see me.

Once when we argued in the car,
taking 1-75 at who knows how many miles an hour,
you slammed your fist into the windshield
and for one stunned instant
I saw only the almost delicate-looking spider's web
fracturing wildly out and out,
from its cruelly precise and irreparable center.