Your Words
your angry words
still echo in my ears
I can still hear that
tone in your voice
you wheeled that pen
as if it were a sword
how shape the words
how deep they cut
how swift the blows
meant to slice her in two
to maim, to kill
but your words
never actually touch her
they only manage to
lay open your own heart
exposing the depth of your pain
which I can feel from here
the intensity I could not
withstand if I were there
but part of me wishes I were
if nothing else but
to hold and comfort you
I wonder if you'd even
let me get that close
closer than on the other end of a phone
on the other side of the world
11.25.97
Author's Notes
In 1986, Wolfmoon and I met Georgia and Aloha (both names are pseudonyms). They moved to the west coast to California in 1990. Over the years, Wolfmoon and I had gone out to see them many times. On the last several trips though, it was becoming more evident that their relationship was in serious trouble, but then again, their relationship had been a rocky one for as long as I'd known them. But in October of 1997, Georgia called and told me that it was finally over with her and Aloha.
This poem was written a month later, after another phone call from Georgia, in which she had read me a couple of poems that she had written to Aloha. Georgia was in a great deal of pain at the loss of their relationship. Plus, it was Thanksgiving Day, which was Aloha's favorite holiday and Georgia loved cooking for her.
