Dear Villain,
When you tie me down this time,
I’d like to be facing the tunnel.
This time I’ll be you and you be me.
I’ll tell you I’m sorry, and you’ll say
it was worth it.

Dear Villain,
Here’s how I knew
that I loved you:
You singled me out,
pressed your thumb
into my bottom lip
and promised I’d be the first
you wouldn’t hurt. Today
the Scotch broom blooms
in the ditches. Now
that I’m happy I’m afraid
for having lost
only worthless things.

Dear Villain,
Here’s what really happens: The train
was coming. I was the one
with the rope. You were the tracks.
I was tying. I was tied. I was trying
to save you. The train was coming.
I was also the train.

Dear Villain,
Last night when you asked me
didn’t I miss my crinolines,
the creosote, the trail we left
of littered gold, I missed
the silence we made in the wake
of the moaning train.
The smoke in your moustache,
the girl who was so sure.
You should have let her.

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