When he comes home
with pregnant knuckles, dripping blood all over the floor,
I feel like a volcano of a wife. I am waiting
for the tectonic plates below me to pose perfectly.
I am waiting for the last straw, the last black eye
or missing tooth I see before I pack my suitcase
and he shows me the front door.
No date stated when this was published, though possibly circa 2015-2017.