Action
in a .certain. .decisive. direction.
cuts me cleanly from your life
abruptly as I'd entered in.
Once incorporated in your imaginings;
now incised whole, surgically, unfeeling, numbed.
I inquired, as is my talent,
to mine your labrynthine thoughts,
questions excavate to yield none
but the .one. .wrong. .answer.
Dark preambles of romance
wither when exposed,
transform the landscape of my pain
into mountains of doubt,
valleys of blame.
Each encounter with your memory
deposits strata of g(u)ilt
in bitter layers of terrain
alien to my emotional topography.
Fallout rains on my resting place.
The silt of hurt feelings settles, hardens,
seething withdrawal encased
as I lay deep in my natural state,
commanded into inaction,
forbidden reply.
Only tacit remembrance allowed
as the script winds down.
The scene ends.
Blackout.

01/26/2006

Posted on 01/26/2006
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