sonnet 6

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2006/12/04
Sonnet 6

That single word that echoed my desire
Last etched on strangled dark through which she left
Got branded on my brain with barbed wire
And now I stand accused of that word's theft.

Her body got so shredded, touch was banned,
Her scars and skin her private sacrament.
Yes, I was there, but it was her own hand.
I only held her and watched the way she went.

And know the word she left. And now it's mine,
Petition the court not for pardon, just release,
Except in exchange for betrayal. Then I decline.

One moleskine's what's required of the few words I've kept.
But hearing one, if you come to wish me peace,
A friendly embrace, go ahead. That I accept.

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