cankered by self
centred bullseyes.
target
for arrows fledged
from dead wings.

love could be
nylon now.
sores do not
care if
instruments are false.

strung between the
hurt now and
some notion
of then words
flow.

do they salve
or do they
sear the flesh
stretched
weeping
consequence
of loving.

words if to sear
should find ear
who made one so ...
strange.

words if to salve
should not halve
loves joy into
loss.

love is purposed . true
to words that are not used
as whips or leashes.

no fertile ground
in words bound
to regret.