Bitter Sun
So here lies what I get for this:bitter sunlight in my eyes. I kiss
your name as I speak it
because this fire in me was lit
in a field of dead brush on a dead summer day
when my soul was running away
when the only sign of the living was a cloud
in the sky, and though afraid, I spoke your name out loud
in a weak attempt to bring you here
by my side. And I can dream of your voice in my ear
secret mumblings that complete
my soul, making me infallible, concrete.
And my wish was granted, for a moment
but like everything else, it all just went
away, like a raven plucking food from the roadside
and a car drives by, the bird flies away, to hide.
Are you afraid? Untrusting? What have I done
to betray you? I am not the harsh sun
which has burned you time and
time again. You were lost, wandering in desert sand
when I took you. Was it
the change that broke you? I spit
out words I know you need to hear
and some I need for myself, and yet all that is dear
continues to fade from my soul. So
what was it that dragged us here? Low
my face to the floor I beg for an answer, but
I receive none. I cut
my wrists because I don't think you
care. All that is true
is departing, dispersing. And I fall and I cry
alone, crying wasted cries until I die
without a hand to hold mine
without even that bitter sun to shine
on my deadened heart.
July 4, 2003