Aporia

But I am at a loss where to begin.
With a yen for a bullet-proof heart.
To begin in the face of revulsion,

in the face of the one who leaves.
What shards of truth bounce back
from a double-sided mirror

of betrayal? The sharpness of knives:
my erstwhile lover whose whittle
flits in me like an afterthought,

still naked and formidable
and smoking like a machine gun.
I lift its veils one by one.

I have plucked my doggerel
from the ground, Rimbauding
what once was vacant.

Words, sway me like before!
You were supple as glow-worms.
But I am at a loss where to begin.

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