Former lover,
Indulge me this anguished plea,
prefaced by this confession:
You are the first and final piece of my soul.
My lungs inhale air and exhale a prayer;
A request to the divine forces that you remain whole,
That no shred of your perfect self is stripped away,
That the only thing that changes is how you perceive me.
That whatever trespass or gaff on my part is ripped from memory
That you hold even half of the opinion I hold of you.
Before you carry out that box
Of personal effects,
Of joyous memories,
Of melancholy epiphanies,
Of sensuous encounters,
Of laughs,
Of tears,
And all the material and otherwise classified fragments of this broken romance,
Realize that I am a man in love with you,
A creature on the brink of the chaotic crumble of his being,
As the pillars of love gone would destroy the Parthenon.

Former lover,
Before your foot steps have finished echoing against my walls,
Please heed the request of an explanation.
Please grace this dead love with the dignity of reason,
As opposed to leaving it in a cloud of an enigma,
Abandoned like a fish on a dock, left to slowly suffocate.
Abide this request as you would a dying man,
As you are doing little more than killing me.

Former lover,
Letting you go will be like releasing a tightened vice,
As my love for you is as a part of my being as my heart.
Saying our last goodbyes,
Sharing that final kiss that did little more than indulge me
In wistful fantasies of an inevitable reunion,
Consummated with regret, love, and reconciled with intimacy.
Your goodbye left strings,
Like a strand of saliva still connecting our lips even as you parted them.

Former lover,
You left the door open when you walked through it.
How could you be so cruel?

The effortless leaf fluttered in the wind, its premature disconnection being the cause of sadness for the caterpillar.

The shadow of the old cottonwood had lengthened, and its roots tunneled ceaselessly in the obscured grass.

A bird summoned forth the air, and filtered her back out, having her carry the daily song.

The dog’s ear lifted slightly as the whir of a bike chain became audible for a short time.
Sleep rediscovered him swiftly.

The field slowly absorbed the flooded acequia water.
Ducks discovered a temporary haven.

She sat in the shade, the dog panting by her side. The soft light caressed her exposed skin in the loose summer dress. She squinted up at the blur of a bicyclist, smiling.

The earth swiveled slightly. The leaf had found the ground. The caterpillar had long been pecked by a cheery, singing bird. The shadow of the tree, now extending in the acequia grove, faded with the dying light. The dog now slept inside the old house, abandoning his domain at the fence corner. The ducks found new water, as the field sighed with relief. She walked her dog back to her yard, wishing the bicycle had not been moving quite so fast.

I thought You were filled with light.
I was just a pathetic,
Unworthy,
Insignificant pupil,
Bathing and ravishing in
Your words,
Your warmth,
And your love.
I believed You to be illuminated from within.
And when I had You,
You were all I needed.
When I ate,
I thanked You.
When I prayed,
I praised You.
When I was miserable,
I would rest on my knees,
And plead, “Why?”
Because, You would know.
Then, one night, deep in prayer,
Exploring You,
Contemplating You,
Learning You,
Knowing You,
I realized that You were a mirror.
And the cracks showed.
My faith’s leaves witnessed winter.
As I birthed sorrow and grief,
I watched tears rain onto you,
And you looked into me, curiously.
I saw you not as a sun,
Not a reaction,
But the reflective plane
Of a false prophet. 
What you knew is what I knew,
Cleverly repackaged,
Recycled,
And chewed into something I had
Always wanted.
Your ideas,
The concepts you shared which I thought
To be yours alone,
Were mine.
I wanted to hear me,
But from someone else.
What do you know?
What you know,
Is what I know,
And I know nothing.
I am infantile in my perceptions,
Primitive in my conjecture,
Handicapped in my understanding.
I wanted to believe I was brilliant,
And you made me think I was,
By being me.
As you expressed concern,
The world trembled.
I tore away,
I realized I was drowning.
I was suffocating in an infinitely reiterating
Record of my own delusions.
The world was as I had seen it from birth,
But you dressed it up in prettier colors.
You saw my void.
You saw what I wanted,
And you acted the part.
I just didn’t realize I was writing your lines.
The euphoria was a hallow can,
And the truth rattled inside like an old penny.
Your smile turned crooked,
Your voice, once a song, was now a snarl.
Your arms, once a meadow, now vines,
Attempted to wrap around me.
The thorns scratched and tore
As the stalks tangled around my limbs,
Tore at my soul,
And attempted to ensnare my love.
I denied you, the vines burned away,
And the sheep’s clothing slipped off.
The banshee wailed,
And the night quivered.
This wolf,
Her mouth frothing with
Panic and anger,
Her fangs gleaming
With the light I now realize
I was emitting,
Her ears laid back,
Her face twisted and mutated
Into some horrifying grimace.
The melancholy turned to fear,
As this delicate,
Intricate flower’s petals fell off,
And the stem became a spear.
You attacked,
The offense of a thousand resentments
Pouring out into a bowl of confessions.
You wanted me dancing in your palm,
And you thought demoralizations
Would provide the beat.
Your claws raked against my ears
With the desperate scratches
Of a predator losing its meal.
I freed myself from the rusty,
Screeching jaws of an old trap
You’ve set before.
My fear,
Now contempt,
Now betrayal,
Now resolved.
I was done,
I was ready to eat my folly,
But, you wanted me to fast.
You wanted me in your future,
I wished you free of my past.