That face slipped through

my mind again it's got me

Ripping with a caress my

sorrow into smaller plentiful

shards of despise and fluidity

Soothing my tattered remains

So I applied her salve

and burned myself with a

masochistic glee and

flagellating honorsense I'm

still stuck four inches from her fields and hills and valleys

Though I don't care much

about the farmland I

hate it and thrive on it's

not always a pleasant existence

We talked last night

Her cool calm stare lashed

into me as we made mountains

of trivialities and devoured each other's words

I can still feel her eyes

gouging into my back as I left

There was no animosity