Ella

August 2010 to April 2011 Word for word, We beat the love Out of each other * Like hammer - Blows crack rock, And water- Wears granite Smooth- Day by day, Our rage poisons- Everything. Memory is - A wound kept raw; closure is An uncertain salve. The End. Sigh *Line shamelessly purloined from Yousef Komunyakaa’s Once the Dream Begins.

Do misty eyes mean Pain festering deep Lean souls starved - Hope blithely crushed And purloined? Do memories mean Wounds left raw, rubbed sore, Chafed red - careless promises Blown away like ripples on a lake by a belligerent hurricane? Do clasped hands hide scars And wry smiles hide gloom