Unsalted Butter Poem by Scott Twombley

An admission of guilt
That I never became
The man I promised
When first we twinkled
In each other’s eyes
As love burned fresh
So deep in our souls,
My thin dreams
A placebo
And the stench
Of hot air...

And just this morning in a
Sweet, tired frog-voice
You spoke “unsalted butter, ”
And of course I said “yes, ”
But this chasm inside me
Where blame seems to fall,
Like all the balls dropped
As I’ve blundered along
While praying to god,
The one I don’t know,
To keep me afloat
In this here and now,
That I might
Complete this one small thing
For the love of my life,
And bring home the butter
To my beautiful wife….