Tortured Lexicon

In the murky light
your words drift like
litter inside me

And I dreamt of
duplicity, a scene
kinder than our reality

Your hands had the
blood on them-
though you protested

and I wagged my finger-
even as you defied-
I exiled you

and that chosen loss
forged in me
a restless fear

It’s a torturous survival
One must treat
others dismissively

and oneself, too.
Such thoughts,
such reckless thoughts

Bemoaning this
insatiability, I
clasp your forgotten palm

siphoning my
love with the
richest grief

It’s as if one could
exist only for
pleasure's sake

A stumbling
caller at a
dirty door

25 July 2010