I bear it more

when I think of your

suffering so,

in love. Keep it,

as you do,

though it burns,

that secret jewel.


But I knew.

Like veins cracks

showed in the eyes;

and the skin glowed,

turned pale; and all

of your fingers

were broken.


21 October, 2016

2 thoughts on “crux

  1. Wow, the poem writes out loudly what is not written in its words. I guess that’s what poetry really is, in the end! What’s said by not saying it….

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