You used my own body against me. This flesh
that is mine to weaponise. This house that is mine
to demolish, not yours to rent out / trash / ask for
your deposit back. I didn’t think you were capable
of such cruelty, didn’t know you had it in you. And
yeah, in the moment it sounded sexy but I don’t need
to understand Spanish to know that the words you
whispered in my ear that night were really truly nasty:
don’t you know that malice translates easily, mi cariño.
Originally published by Outcast Press in Poetry Vol II. Read the full issue here.