Sunday, April 17, 2011
You’re better now,
your wounds have closed,
there is sapling strength.
Your sister is still
at the other end of the phone,
singing her hosannas.
Your ex thinks it’s his turn now,
though tit for tat was never established.
Demands are made. Some are met.
The ones who hurt you most want forgiveness
at all hours of the night. You can’t sleep anyway,
and when a friend offers a back rub when what
you really want is sex, you slide down the door
of your own locked-out life, and count yourself