I'm alone. I'm a raging river;
he's a jagged stone. I dance around
him in the billowy air. He's fixed
as a toilet on his stare. He's a ship

in moor. Not a thing I can
procure. The two of us,
a heavy tanker, weighing me
down like an anchor. My wing

is clipped. I cannot fly. I've been
stripped, ****** and tied. I lost myself
next to him. The silk shades drawn.
The light is dim. All I learned

undone. My ****** pen is now
finespun. I'll plant him in
my rose bush yard. As a scarecrow
to stand guard.