level playing fields the turf kicks back.
never clear to begin with
but always green.
keep off the grass.
i always heeded.
undressing me in words, printed hands on flesh
i turned my eyes,
willing blindness
holding silence
head in sand
blinking
pleading deaf and mute.
heart breaking.
body burning.
stepping back.
legs, firmly, crossed.
even in this,
our perfect circle of love,
i have nothing to say.
bound between two abyss,
that were dug by other hands
while i sit looking out over other horizons.
distances unfathomable,
my fingers bleed
digging for bricks
to build bridges
to loves i share
a sister
her lover
a brother
this game is not mine to play
the bridges not mine to build
the emptiness to cross
not of my making
not mine
still
fingers bleed
for
hearts emptying
onto green
blades |
Submission Name: perfect circles of love
