We both knew nothing. You said “baby, that’s everything”. You smiled, showed me your teeth like an animal and sighed. A weightless sigh, breath spilt like rose water onto those pillows. You said “baby, come here with your nothing”. Told me “come here with your nothing and lay all of that nothing right next to my everything”. And I did, because you were everything. Only thing. Made me feel nothing. Like air and bodiless, and baby, that’s everything.
So I laid my nothing down on the table and your everything was all up in the air spilling wine on my marble floors which, from where I laid, looked more like my blood spilt on your pavement. And your everything was all over my skin sucking wine like it was breast milk and you were a child again. Spilling wine down your cheeks because they could not hold your drinking. Flesh blushing. You smiled, showed me your teeth like an animal and breathed. Your everything, all over my neck whispering sweet nothings into my sweet nothing, spitting your wine with every breath. Tiny red rivers flowing down my neck, staining pathways to breasts, leading us nowhere.