Fiercely.

fiercely; the ink slides the word's hooks
and slopes onto the speckled parchment.
It is so dry, and the room smells like a cadaver.
I wrote that the summer has been merciless without you,
as heat licked up my arms and at the back of my neck.

There is a box I keep filled with you.
I don't write that, and instead hide behind wit.
It is dusty, velvet, its skin a harsh, harsh blue.
I utilise it to recover you--and whisper things in foreign tongues,

sounds that remind me of you. German slurs against french songs,
with your favourite instruments playing faintly in the background:
the cello, the flute. I could never understand how a well versed bird like you
managed being vulgar, too. Every profane slip rolling of your tongue

stirred discomfort and disappointment. You cupped me like a snow globe,
placed me on your bedside table for a year or two...
Until I melted away from you.
I tell you vague things that say nothing about myself, and end it fiercely.

Oh. Oh, you. Oh, you strange girl, with your odd doll-like smiles,
and samurai sword glares.
I loved you fiercely.