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Thursday, September 13, 2007

A Different Fire

when did it happen I couldn't tell,
when we divided into two
incompatible parts that rubbed,
rough tectonic plates in
a constant rumbling, earthquakes that
shook our faith, layers of injury,
layer upon layer of injurious words
blocking us further in, a layering of
blistering that never subsided,
brief emergent patterns of seeing red;
and after the afterimage of mistrust
that would bleed, a contagion of poison,
delayed and muffled,
murdering our happier times so that
we had no foundation, no compensation
left to give to each other.

we stuck out
to form a defensive angle with the other,
conversations began to signal great
distances rather than closer connections,
talking became so much work, scraping
for understanding, dwindled to its nub,
appetite without object, so little ease
between us that we could not be
seized by longing, building a different
fire that changed everything it touched,
we had armed ourselves
for the approaching end.

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