The dire battle...

Again, here is Cheltenham Elegy 420:

The Junior Prom deposited me (and fifteen
others) on the floor of her basement. I could
barely see daylight at the time, and at three in
the morning I began to prowl. I was too scared
to turn on any lights. She emerged like a mermaid
from seaweed. I needed comfort, she enjoyed my
need. We had gone out— she was bitter. The whole
dialogue happened in shadows. No one was hooking
up in the other room, either. You spiteful little princess.

...and here is the Two Teens Trilogies "p.s.", 2013:

Whether off the bathroom counter
or the back of your hand, darling,
your unusual vehemence that
winter night, cob-webbed by
half-real figures, was animated by an
unfair advantage, which they threw
at you to keep you happy as you
died piece-meal. All I had
was incomprehensible fury and a
broken heart— when I hit the floor
at four, you were getting ready
to incise dawn’s throat, & opened—

So, there you have it. The house was in Cheltenham, the Junior Prom was a macabre as Rocky Horror, and I was in hell for this dire battle.