i have never been one to let scabs heal,
so how can you expect
me to let this pass painlessly, fade
into a diminished humanity?
i think really what i wanted was a
cataclysm, catharsis,
but all your outstretched hand withdrew
was a sunset, crimson glow fading
to leave goosebumps on a hard-worn dignity.
The last throw
went to balance, and though
she tipped her hat
to fire, to ecstasy and wild joy,
i’m left behind in a frosted limbo, wondering
where i will find dancing stars
now, surrounded by this nebulous,
ebbing reality.