Gaslight 'gas- līt/ v. to manipulate someone by psychological means
so that the person questions his or her own sanity

We lived above a butcher shop and each morning men with blood
             on their aprons would unload inventory
from a dented truck. They were doing this just for me. No, they were
             not. That year, I wilted in the smell of raw things
and a thickness twisted in from our only window that tunneled the day

onto our damp, hungover noon. And the pounding of the chopping block
             in brutal intervals rattled up through the pipes
of our apartment, telling us how much time had passed in the act of piecing
             apart. I know, because there was love in the hold-down. Right? Yes.
Counting ninety bangs of the cleaver before he’d peel himself off of me.
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