I'm going to explain to you, Nora,
what's going to happen now,
Nora.
I am going to stand on the top
of my roof
and breathe deeply
filling my fluid-filled lungs
and I am going
to scream.
You! Nora! Nora! Nora!
Your precious face unseen for months,
Just a name on a screen!
(and barely there at that)
And FUCK THAT, Nora!
I did abandon my poems,
but I can't keep apologising.
I saw your name again, Nora.
The doctors are afraid that I won't recover
this time,
my ribmeats splattered on the wall
and my heart on the floor.
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