We did that thing
Let all the pieces get bent
Forgot to see the birds beneath the cloud cover

We smudged the paper and the ink
Let wide, swelling resentments into the cracks

We made a personal war
Castigated with half-truths
And struck with full, swollen fists

We waited when we should’ve acted
Stayed quiet when we should’ve spoken
Turned away when we should’ve held each other’s gaze

We should’ve had sex in all the rooms of the house
Once more around, one last time