they said it was the sun,
but it was her eyes—
blue like drowning,
and I looked.
I didn’t whistle,
I didn’t speak,
just looked.
they dragged me out
like a busted dog
from a hot porch,
shouting things
even the devil would blush at.
the rope
was older than the tree,
and the hate
older than that.
tell her I forgive her—
but never them.
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