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Apr 2012
And it seems I will only see your face behind glass
As you turn yourself away from my beckoning
Muted like a songbird with a gouged throat and
Broken wings - my hands press against the wall and
I envision the last time we touched

The shackles on my ankles feel heavier as
I imagine eclipsing the space between our bodies
The bruised, maroon stripes across my back
Swell like a prisoner's garb and bright blood
Spills from my mouth; the color of your favorite wine

I know now the world has no room for treachery and
I can feel the temptations march beneath my feet
As I fall to my knees with a beseeching scream
The gods wrap their warm fingers around my limbs
Dissolving me back into the mother-earth where
One day, I will meld with you again
Mary Torrez
Written by
Mary Torrez
683
   Dhirana
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