2/4/13 (first draft)

you are the mercury
in my skin
all the scrapes
cuts
slices
in the world
cannot rid me of you;

my insides rupture,
a seeping earthquake
shakes and groans
like and old building,
tired in the spine;

all the rage
is carefully released
in dosed amounts
at other, bigger targets

across the rift
you turn away
but it doesn't matter
anymore, does it?
if all i can feel
is the greedy anger
what's the point
in staying?

you will fade
like summer afternoons
and i will dissipate
into the still water
that claimed me
so long ago;

but in my capillaries,
arteries,
aorta,
like little branches
of liquid frost
will hold your
hand and mouth
so tightly with
understanding
little frozen rivers
of shimmering
ancient
silver
mercury.