I would die if I found you,
fingers spread over soft shoulders.
My strange defeat, what I must have done:

The curve of my nose or my dimpled smile
has pulled your arms in a magnetic embrace
around her body - the open grasp of a baby.
My passion is a surging water;
you wade only so far before turning.

It is only the reflection of my fault
lines, severing the body into halves -
one dragging behind you, one draping across
the curtain rod. Day piercing through pores
in hooked rings and diamond studs.

You've left me
with no further conclusion.
Forgiving myself for your hurried mistake,
deliberate and unrepentent.

12/31/2008

Author's Note: i don't know how i feel about this poem. i'm feeling sick with the need to write and the need to get this horrible horrible mess from my mind.

Posted on 12/31/2008
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