We were
on low benches and high ends,
like see-saws,

except you didn't want
to balance out and you didn't want
to be a half heart.

"I loved you," he says.

I sighed because my ears were curved,
because they had to listen to how Venus
slammed itself into me.

Venus moves in me
like an oversized balloon
in a small room.

You've got it all wrong.
There's no need for past tense.
I know you love me when it's over—
you love me when I'm ashes
when I can't say:

"You didn't."