XII

The night is grieving with rain

And you speak of return in 

heavy breath

A warning sign of red plumage

Love at long last

My silken words spin into fury

Into contact with art

This wrist twist

Bore to me no meaning

We never fall in love

The same way twice

To hope for such

Is a longing for lightning

I shredded the seams

Of my dress as you spoke

Tearing myself to thread 

Spooling at your feet

If I believed in such a thing

I could have cried

But not for you

For me

For me