Monday he came back for me,
Like he had before.
Deep inside I knew I had to go.
With his hard hands he handled me,
He handled me so…
When he took me Monday
I had your favorite dress on.
It was like dying slowly.
Tears stayed hidden, longing for our sacred union
Where your maleness was my blessing,
And my presence was your soul's desire.
We were brilliant and unscathed.
You hushed my quivering fears.
In our first awakening, you found my softness
And nightly kisses swallowed each breast.
The last time your gentle hands
Caressed my little fingers,
I breathed softly into your mouth
And I gave my burdens rest.
But by October, Fear ascended to betray.
Quietly creeping, preparing you for war,
Falsely accusing our love too pure.
Now I exhale tears
Wth every borrowed breath.
They fall everywhere now.
They wander within the rustling leaves
When trees release their shriveled uselessness.
And when chill is birthed
They salute icicles with awe-full knowing.
~
He’s calling for me, Nado.
I don’t want to settle for his company.
Come back, please save me.
Don't leave me where
He can handle me…
Where he can handle me with his hard hands.
© 1997 April R. Silver
Photo Credit: Saddi Khali
Dorothy Irene Height
