It’s funny how we wouldn’t say goodbye –
with each of us so angry and so hurt –
distempered tender batterers who try
to bluster through the pain and speak in curt
emphatic challenges or low retreat.
We tried some ultimata on for size
and whined our inarticulate defeat,
beseeching/seeking compound compromise.

I wonder: were we harnessed by the phone?
Each knowing we could disconnect yet held
the handset hotly, lest we swamp alone
in failure. So our wayward passion welled –
we broadcast each our hurt and angry cry
as very loudly neither said goodbye.