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Nothing hurts more
than the blunted arrow
the grazing punch,
the half-slur.
Insinuation
from a sibilant slander
whispered to a sleeping cat
haunts many ears.
She was a woman dammed to be
a love for me. My curse
was to desire her.
We were a cage-fight for passions
yet in the end
no one was hailed a winner,
we limped away
damaged by near misses.
Nothing stings
as much as a sharp pen
made to snap and scratch
upon a blank page.
People will read,
peer between lines
that are not there.
Swear they knew all a long
we were flailing beneath
a hurricane that had no eye
and a storm that had no teeth.
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