You and I
sitting atop thin, barbed wire
like little love birds with claws
scalloped from erotic warfare.
You, on your side, peck ravenously
for staples, wire, and memories.
I collect the blood runoff in viles to hang
from our pointy necklace.
You snip away at the line until you cut
deeper than either of us imagined.
There is a great gap in things as we fall.
The fence- we thought it was foolproof-
until it snapped.