It was news to me —

when you heard the attacks happening
the hyperventilating the sobbing the gagging and dry heaving
from one floor upstairs.

not because i thought i was being quiet about it —
which i was not, except for near the end
when i’d collapse out of breath
and gasp for what i could as a near-death sea creature on dry land

at first, i was embarassed
to be perceived in such a private manner
but twenty years later i realized the truth
behind it was shame

that you didn’t help

instead, you told me —
no, informed me —
as if i wasn’t also present
as if you didn’t cause it

you became privy to an intimate secret
entering into that place of hopelessness and terror and despair
something sacred between us became grotesque and profane.

Tell me, oh wise observer of human intricacies —
oh put upon mother of all and none —
back then, did you get off observing the anguish I emanated
just the way you liked
secretly sneakily pervertedly watching me
create my own gorgeous and holy intimacy,
with someone else, with someone in love
with only me
in another place never meant for you?