In Guam

The silence slices through me like a whale-bone knife
Rendering my soul two parts that no longer make any sense
We didn’t choose this – but this is what we are now
I can hear your voice like a hushed whisper across the beach in February
I can feel your touch but it is only a memory – a dream that is long over

The sadness brushes up against me like an old lady trying to get her pills
My body is jostled without humor or warmth against my soul’s will
We didn’t ask for the bridge that doesn’t quite span our love
You can feel my love rising up around you like a warm wet flame
You can hear me sing love songs of other places and other times

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