G, Julia, Hal, and I Walk Hand in Hand (p.1)

“The more thou dam’st it up, the more it burns.”

She says.

I feel her spirit at bay
Ready to burst through her eyes.
She will find love
Weathered
Whether she winds her way
To his wild ocean
Or he come unexpectedly
Upon her
With little more to give
Than pride less tears
That mingle in her stream

She will find
Stillness
In the comfort of pajamas,
Carotene,
The dismantling
Of her cheekbones
Brick by painful brick,
And the resulting
Quiet
Will tear-
Bleed the eardrums
Of he who hurt her;
Cut him off at the shins,
Force him beneath
The dust of his memories,
Eviscerate his breath,
And buried there he will remain,
Restless.
Bound to a waking life
That is death without her.