Lazy Bones

Desire burns only as long the fire is stoked.
The coldness of a time passed wraps itself
around you tight enough to raise the goose
flesh on your arms. What is fiction and what
is truth?

Don't forgive me, I said to as I stood in
the doorway between what we'd been and
what we'd become.

I'll never be able to forget your eyes puffed
and pouring streams to flow from either
side of your face.

I turned my back to walk away, each step
a brick in a wall laid between us, higher
and higher

until there was nothing left to see. I smash
my firsts into it time to time, flesh scraped,
blood flowing hotly.

They told me they found you face down
the next morning. All I've been able to do
is keep those bricks coming.

The wall keeps getting higher and thicker.
the memory lingers like a weed growing
from a crack in the pavement.

There is no heart left to rip the weed from
the ground. Even if I did, the roots would
remain firmly in the ground.