we had a Google Doc. thought it was
ingenious that we could write in it
at once. in there we wrote love letters
to each other. you never capitalised anything.
I underlined your words. you liked to cut up my phrases,
italicised some. your sentences were lush
but in a way an abandoned field sings with flowers.
I let my pixels bloom unedited.
one day you climbed into my bed (finally body
to body), slowly knived me into wordless pieces
of flesh. I was waiting to kiss you. you fingered
my spilling veins, hit the backspace key.
nothing changed. you couldn’t edit me.
you cried: “if only I’d saved you as mine.”