There is a softness to the force that you inflict,
a bluntness to your trauma,
a promise of further hurt I can't resist
The subtlety reminds me of the pressure of your lips
There's a smoothness to the way you steal my interest,
a deftness to your theft of thought,
like the hand that stole between my shoulders,
led me to bed and pushed me over
There was always confidence in your intrusions,
intuition in your ammunition
that forced me to pay attention
The new silences you require
remind of you compelling me to quiet
the desperation in how loudly I expired
Your solitude when you ceased
was always a control that I admired

©2003