3 words that were the tornado,
obliterating all
into clean and tidy rubble.

Ordered, perfect, succinct
as your wicked fault-lines
imploded and I said

you were doing the right
thing, I just did not want
you to do it.

My eye of the storm, departed
crumpled
because I could not, though

I swear, calling bare, blood
burning, desperate, destitute nights
and each sharpened, salted day

as my witness, I tried.

But this body holds no words, this mind
carries no ease to destruction, incessant
heart beats out no explanation of why

why? why? why,

I cannot love you.