Swallow Salt Sea Water To Bleed Fresh Rain

One week, two

Two months, three

Three years, four

Time passes like sawdust blown by cool winds

Into colder seas

She remains in my memories

Stubborn as a thorn in a dog's paw

I'm hesitant to tear it out

Despite knowing the pain will be gone when I do

Despite knowing the greater, persistent agony of keeping it in

I have let the skin grow much too thick around the wound

To avoid damage either way

Until a limp grows in the limb

The only way to pluck the thorn from the root

Is not with tweezers, but with a saw

To cut away the heart rot within

To fill this gaping hole with fresh rain water

To give birth to a lotus in the muck she left behind