I am open
to hear you
and to feel you
but so closed
to those feelings
that I wanted to hold
and embrace
and touch.
I can't, for it is no
longer matter
but just memory.

And now, here,
I feel it for the first time.
Again, and again.
This time to Korea I go
and he says
I'll leave you if you go.
Not exactly
but exactly.

Just like he did with Texas
if you leave I will go.
And he did.

And now it happens again
Forever in a turbine
of ultimatum.

Delicate, you sigh.
Shaking your head
at my despair
touching the open wound
healing it with your fingertips
and I cry.

Sobbing to the tune
of your melodic gaze
minor and soft
delicately wounded.

Gone again.
Bliss.