Nancy Bennett


This is how a wound feels with no bandage on
     open to the night and you and I in separate beds
     dream separate dreams
     having tried to solidify the union man/wife
     we dream of our pasts and
     to regression we go, each looking for why we can't
                 slice it/hack it
                                as a pair.

Folded like a samurai sword , we look for parallels
                     in each other's pasts
    under curtains of time, uncloaking the mystery
    Does our present/past unhappiness arise from the darkness?
    Dare we listen to the murmurs of our past lives
                    echoing back who we once were...

                    I am the discarded one
I turn I walk away, prideful , I have caused real pain in your eyes
        I have seen it behind your lies of indifference
                    and you are not one to be shunned.
Through my back, a stream of blood from the arrow,
   you laugh as I fall, you grip the bow, no one
walks away from you and as I awake, fresh hate surfaces in your eyes
                    and reflects in time in mine....

No one speaks on the way home,
you seem disturbed but you don't apologize,
    you know the marriage is over and
                you pack and get ready to leave.

My eyes are fire, no one walks from me, and when your
back is turned the sword that hangs on the mantle tears you
    from your shoulder to your lung, as you gasp in pain
   Oh! fresh pain! Old Pain! Its all the same
               and I laugh as you fall...

 They find me, still fingering the blood from the blade
 Some would say karma, others say madness
                but as they lock
     me, the chair, the sizzling switch
     I have to wonder "so this is it, this is all there is?"
                 and  I have to wonder
         what will become of our love
                 in the next progression ?

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