She called me again today
from the top of a queen-sized bed
drenched in scents and sweat
and draped in satin and velvet

She called me again today
from the tears of a thick cloud
slowly dripping into a hole
on the broken earth below

She called me again today
from a bubbling ancient spring
into which a mad woman high on glee
had poured gallons of stale ale

She called me again today
from the torn page
of a creased exercise book
old, forsaken and mute

She called me again today
from where she waylaid me
and sap from a weeping trunk
went thud against tomorrow's hay

She called me again today
from an angry hissing tap
whose force and might
spoke of trapped time

She called me again today
softly from the pride of her casket
and I knew futility then
We live and love in one direction only