penny (for my thoughts)

one needn't hate one's (past) love(s)

penny (for my thoughts)


"do i still love her," you asked...
and drawn out
by the temperature of your concern,
i split open, like a melon
in september:
  "well, for me, love never ends..."
    but the disability which follows
    loss, like a shadow, is finally fading
    now, in the waning light of acceptance,
    and the pain it rode in on is beginning
    to sleep on three feet.

    unwilling to smear memory
    with regret's muddy tears, unrepentant
    of steps taken, dice rolled,
    flax spun to gold, i am cloaked in a lonely,
    folded robe, uncompelled to rewrite her story
    or expel the unruly students still bearing
    a lingering care for her.

to smash the mask, undressing one's dreams
in full view, is the sweetest fruit of love's vine,
and the wine we pressed sits, still
dusty in the cellar, for me to drink
anytime i please.