Facing south

there is a pall

on this place

I shuffle down the darkened hall

the one with all

the pictures on the wall

and deliver the forms

under your teeth

I bear it like a final birching

before being released from

Changi prison

it’s caustic

this face I am facing

south

where we sheltered from the rains

and we were close.

the oftentimes of the infinite

intertwine

and we were so entwined…once

I carry the life I had

and bury it in the sea

so it will drown.

And in the heart of the

West Texas basin

so it will burn.

I did not ask for anything

in return

I hope you understand these

letters I write are not meant to be cold….

I was never yours

to take

or remake

but I could have been yours

to hold

image courtesy of Pinterest