don’t ever ask me why.

for you, my soft-spoken gentle-handed almost lover. for you and the way we turn our hearts to stone so we can’t feel them breaking as we say goodbye another time.

for you and the way our bodies are stiff as boards and the way the space between us swells with the battle of our intentions.

for eyes that say every word we don’t have the voice to give life. for hands that wring and pulses that quicken and nights that come to life with the force of our wanting.

I have wanted. I have heaved those sighs that make the earth and all its warmth seem somehow empty. I have longed, raged, bargained.

I have chosen.

and the choice turns you from living flesh to a ghost that barely shimmers on the air, a ghost that fades as I walk backward, onward, into the light.


About tehlorkay

writer of poems and longer things. restless wanderer of small-town streets. unabashed seeker of the true world.
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