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Image for post

It hurt when he recoiled

with a battered nose,

blood smeared over his cheek.

His image blurs even

when I wipe away my tears and

all the colors merge into

awful drooling mixtures,

warm and cool but searing

my eyes like a white-hot light.

He turned

gripped the door

and rustled the glittering knob

with red-stained fingers

and ran into the bitter night.

I watched him swallowed whole,

and the cruel darkness chewed

and spat him into the crusted snow

like a set of jaws.

And even as I watched him disappear,

a wispy phantom released from

my ethereal dungeon,

I wanted him, but I couldn’t touch him

with my sore fist.

So I nursed it with my other hand,

raw at the touch,

tender upon my blood-red knuckles.

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