Message to My Other
You will not find me.
The angel promised
I would be left alone,
and I have been – left alone
like the hollowness created by a plaster mould,
with edge but no substance.
I had to earn, and once earned, I had to chisel
and sand to smooth perfection.
You will not cross my path
and ruin my illusion, you will not
tear a hole of horror in my canopy
or block my sun with your stark
though extreme reality.
You will run back and take your loss, take
the burrs buried in your hair, take your desperate corner
and your beauty that veils a great violence.
You will walk toward another – one that has not
lived as long nor has longed for
oblivion as I have. You may not sit beside me.
The angel promised,
and life without you is…
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