A bullet in the night

I don't know what to say for myself.
Words are coagulating in my throat
like day old blood and the gathering of ants
so I breath in, gulp them all down
Now,
I have grown accustomed to your coldness
and the constant flurry of hornets when I reach for the door
knowing you are on the other side
Still,
I am surprised
(In the few seconds before the curtain falls
I'll hold my gaping mouth with the grace of a thousand drunken soldiers
days after they lost the war)
There is a miner shouting Eureka in the abscesses of my comatose soul while
Something behind your cold eyes sparks and fizzles out:
Goodnight, great party.
Then you speed away,
A spy,
a bullet in the night.