With each word they tighten their fetters |
letters |
and lengthen their chains. She swipes the notes he sends her, |
center |
locked in shining sheets, somehow there |
here, |
yet always beyond reach. Still she waits |
pained, |
with open hands, catching coin, never knowing |
lowly, |
the lips from which each leaf is torn – |
forming |
still, she prays, where spaces stood, his letters stand – |
unspanned |
still, where once he stood, she withstands grief |
seas, |
like pennies pounded thin, like thieving |
leaving |
hands and mouths mutely confessing |
confetti |
|
|