dearest d,

you know

you must know that I love you

loved you, loved what I knew of you

loved what I did not

was willing, eager to be . . . anything!

whatever pleased

me as goodwill garden faerie, our early random start

as hopeful helpful neighbour (nay-brr)

voluntary health consultant

dance partner, sex-crazed yearning all-flesh date

or quiet writing colleague, chaste confidante

tasty treat cook, empathizer

even semi-skilled domestic aid

with all that wistful wanton willingness

(wide ranging choice for sure) what went wrong?

yet something did, so wrong

so very ugly wrong that now we are apart

utterly apart in every way

on separate planets

i can't see yours

mine is the planet wrong

where wrongness is not understood

just eaten

drunk

and murky breathed

bathed in too

icy, endless acid bath

deserved, I guess? but have to guess . . .

harshest punishment, this ever-present inner grilling

never knowing how or why or where I erred

unless an even harsher one still lurks?

assurance that we'll never meet again —

not embraced in full, that one, as yet

but must be soon to come?

though maybe, then

maybe then I won't survive . . .

this I, at least

the one that's yours

just yours

will not — cannot — should not, it seems

so, maybe, that hard chastening won't count?

current I (strangely) does still exist today

lives on

exists alone for you

regrets, repines

signs this with all her stupid pointless love

seals not with wet pressed wax alone

but with a yearning, grieving kiss