"i know it's over when..." by Will Arthur Spiller

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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

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Will Arthur Spiller moonlights as a cowboy rapstress, under the name Johnny Cash Money. Find him on Instagram @willspiller and Twitter @warthurspiller.