She uses your name
As a weapon
Goading me
Daring me
To reach across the seat
And wrap my hand around her neck
And squeeze
Until she’s as lifeless as you.
She doesn’t say your name
Like a taboo
Like she’s the first person
To speak that one word
To my face
Without flinching
Since I walked away
And let the river take you.
She doesn’t know your name
Falling from her lips
Is a gift
That brings equal parts
Agony and relief.
Whatever the intent,
Hearing her blaspheme to speak it aloud
Makes me want to silence her forever
But also command her to say it again
And again
Treasuring even the sweet agony
In the bone-crushing relief.