To My Wife

Beloved, whom I have wronged deeply,
Whose faults I have multiplied
While diminishing my own

For the five years,
The fights, the betrayals
The nights of righteous anger

I am sorry.

"What I needed, what I need from you and no one else, is what you could not give, love delivered with a particular fierceness, savagery befitting some Aztec sacrifice – a heart ripped out, pulsating and shedding its ecstatic tears of blood."
Excerpt, "The Last Affair", Fictions