Habeus Corpus

He had so many ways to tell me he loved me, but he could never decide on the right one. So I tried on a few dresses, but never bought any. The sand rose to meet our terms of surrender. The bottles waited for our response. While the drunk man at the corner of the bar cautioned us to remain strangers.

If we could.

He'd say it in words when he was drunk. He'd say it in emails when I wouldn't answer. He'd sing in it through his fingernails as they raked my skin. He'd say it and I'd tell him he was wrong. Citing the the pills as evidence. A jury of condoms left to determine.

How wrong we were.