It’s the anniversary today
I haven’t spent much time with it lately
Nine years of weather
Have dulled the flush of urgency.
Discolored and worn smooth from the hours spent rolling it between my palms.

Now it just is.
Vague.
An unspecified ache and not even that most of the time.

Today though.
Carefully, carefully,
I unsealed it from its resting places -
nestled in my right shoulder, cupped behind my right knee, bound to the place where my neck joins my body -
And I popped it all in my mouth at once
and chewed.
And chewed.
And c h e w e d.

God the taste
So sour, bitter, unbearable on this cleansed palette.
Salt on my face and in my mouth too
And I chewed.

The thing is, you could easily make a meal of it
And oh did I once feast on the freshness of its sharp edges, bleeding and asking,
Why does it hurt?

These days I choose to fill myself in other ways.
A person could starve on broken promises.
I can think of nothing sadder
Than ending up the only casualty of a one-man war.