Brenda Warren
I lay awake at night stumbling
In sheets crusted with ether
Wondering why I cannot
Dream without panic.
–
Your eyes snag in passing,
A choice belabored in conversation,
A discreet high razing
The length of my spine,
A thousand miles of wreckage
Strewn between our ruined hearts.
What is there left to talk about?
Help no longer performs
The obligatory resuscitations.
–
I wipe the sweat from my chakras,
Sleeves bolstered at the elbows.
The stain of love never comes out
But there is always
An alteration of color.
Someday these raw red wounds
Will shrink to silver.
mindlovemisery 