Tuesday, November 2, 1999

Miniature Relationship Tombstone

She had that
strange beauty
that I will always ache for
even when I have
held fast in my arms.

Her body was like
ghost milk;
I reached out and grasped
and kissed
and drank of it all,
paralyzed with trust
and disbelief.

Her eyes were of course wounded
and her speech confused me
as I was left skidding
through the damaged labyrinth of her mind
never knowing quite
where to turn.


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