The scarf is proof.

I scrape and slide along through my coarse life,

While you seem to glide so smooth,

Directing your off glances like a stabbing knife,

Puncturing any effort I desire to smooth-

-the wrinkled sandpaper of our entanglement,

Which seemed to burn softly just past,

Now we sit and pretend our arrangement,

never did come to pass.

 

We move like chess pieces now,

Avoiding what we knew we felt,

How you pretend it never happened

I’m grinding my head with doubt.

 

I can understand your convenience,

if nothing had occurred,

but my god! I hate the barrier we’ve created,

where through it can penetrate no delicate words.

 

The well building inside me could force that barrier down

one sentence could batter away my mystery

the gulf of our worlds once more solid ground,

walk to your shores again without guards or history,

Without dismissals or strategy.

 

bare to the world once more.

 

But I am a spineless creature,

meek and stupid to this game

a fowled and awkward preacher

I can only hope that you are the same.

 

I can at least take solace in this,

When our passions were then flesh and groping thought,

Our nations entwined like people

and only our human treaty was what we sought.

 

The soft scarlet silk unwrapped and flattened,

is proof…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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