Loosing in the sky with diamonds

Mine, Not Yours--Fear and Anger, Lust

and Possession, Murder--of Course

I will take twenty minutes now,
not to think or ponder, not to regret
nor brood nor fear, but just to say

I hurt, that I have entered an ugly

time, the dark thing that has always

stood between you and me. And,

because its mere potentiality was

what stretched your distancing arm,

I thought I'd call it forth--a stupid,

angry thing to do, I know. But I could

not bear being shut away by you

because of something that did not

happen, as if betrayed for holding

onto light, unrewarded for fending

off the dark (as if that was not its own

reward).

I walked to the morning sun,

but this darkness would not budge.

Who invited this thing that stars shun

into my life? What sentient being said,

give him wine to drink until his feet are

thick with darkness?

If only I could extrapolate light from a

sticky piece of warm rice, the red-gold

light of tea made from forty-seven roots

of sorrow. Having sipped it, a man may

step inside its center.

After that I can say, God, I release you.

Ex-wife, I release you. Mother, father, I

release you. Teacher, you are released.

It is a lesson learned. Letting go so as not

to lose one's grip. Twenty minutes are up

so I must end now.

But you, best girl ever, you are harder to

let go of than the rest. Loosing you may

take another twenty minutes yet.