Nine Minus Nine Equals Nothing.


Nine Minus Nine Equals Nothing.


Pondering nine ways

I could reach her,
by telephone,

letters or poems
flowers, candy,

or a visit,
car, bus or

plane trip home,
to reconcile

our parting
till I realized

with a groan,

My ten fingers

are stalactites,
hung deep in

despair's dark hole,
my bruised heart

a beaten vessel
cradling my

wingless soul.

Two feet fall short

of the distance,
that could bring us

our sweet tomorrows
both eyes blinded

to forgiveness,
on a face left

miming my sorrows,

My dreams, all

nightmares saddled
to the hoarseness

of my cries,
in the wee hours

when my body
can't find the

strength to rise.



Nine minus nine

equals nothing

but at least I have

something to

think about now

that she's been

subtracted from

my life.





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