Déjà vu

Right when I thought I had seen the

Last of disaster
The last of the big hard- hearted heartaches
You slip this one under the door like a furtive love letter
Oh I didn’t even see it coming, the postmark from that
Familiar booby trap.

I tear it open like it’s going to tell me I won

The lottery or contains perhaps a breathy erotica
But no, it’s that same blistered seal
licked by the devils own tongue, he must love
The glue that comes undone when love is not a
missive of trust and delight but the same
Old Will narrative of shame and betrayal.

I had gotten the hang of

sending them back
but this time
It’s open before I can scribble
Return to Sender.