"i know it's over when..." by Will Arthur Spiller
i feel more intimacy peeling an orange
by the kitchen window
a moment of vulnerability that anyone can see
quiet acts of voyeurism
more thrilling than you not holding my hand again
or laying still beside me at night so far away in your bed
you take an inch and run for miles
you command a room but never make me laugh
the orange is bitter but at least i feel something
sharp segments lead to a lack of satisfaction
but it’s better than nothing
i think about my imaginary voyeur and what he sees
when he looks at me peeling that orange
does he think me studious?
meticulously pulling each thread of pith to its conclusion
would he lean through the window (were it open) and ask
“how was your day, honey?”
and actually want my answer?
would he take a segment sliding silent across the countertop
as a gesture of my affection?
would he see that i’m alone
take this as his moment to force through the door
hand round my throat to squeeze the life out of me?
or is that just wishful thinking?
i know it’s over when i eat the final segment
wash my hands with jasmine soap
yet the acrid scent still lingers
Will Arthur Spiller moonlights as a cowboy rapstress, under the name Johnny Cash Money. Find him on Instagram @willspiller and Twitter @warthurspiller.