In this Version of the Break-up, We Break-up
by Deborah Bacharach
You decide now, before the ache like a cracked nose, that you won’t love me. In this version, I don’t bang other men, I mean I do, but you have no say. We’re broken up. We don’t travel through gelato, slow tongue curling bites at the end of the world. When I laugh like a twenty-two, you don’t freeze, a light brown rabbit in the dusk.
Deborah Bacharach is the author of two full length poetry collections Shake & Tremor (Grayson Books, 2021) and After I Stop Lying (Cherry Grove Collections, 2015). Her poems, book reviews and essays have been published in Poetry Ireland Review, New Letters and The Writer’s Chronicle among many others. Find out more about her at DeborahBacharach.com.