Love Ia

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

I want to draw

a straight line in your

mind and mine; from

my presently terminal

state to my long-ago

friend, long-ago lover,

a line of causation, a line

of fatal nourishment.

Sketching what I must see

as cruelty and a will to kill.

One who I fear, I need

and I may still love.

Why else want her

smile, her courtesy, her

thoughtful reflection, to

know why in a way that

speaks of hostility’s end?

Okay. I may just want to

not leave anger trailing

from my grave.