Gave you a whale of my illusions
the day I dug my future into your loins,
but you did not return faith.
(Between us everything was one-sided)
You carried maiden to a safe steeple
(I know everybody takes precautions these days.)
You even cajoled into a bottle necked tower
the tongue running from the gong
locking the tip to menstruate secretly
one corner of the corridor.
Why did you do that?
(“Boys like pulling strings,” you said).
Couldn’t even trust me with your blasted bell.