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  • Writer's pictureErrol Rubenstein

HURT

Our life, in which I have offended, inflicted

damage to our pact, lies before me—

shattered glass.


I have whispered secrets to strangers,

betrayed confidences, committed transgressions.

Like blood that


astonishes, inflicted hurt.


So, I have damaged you; you are a broken ear of corn.


Moments, minutes, hours, days, months have passed

and I cannot put my foot back into

that river that brought us here.


You give me things to do,

I do them. This helps, you say.


So, we live parallel lives,

and I will try to be happy under your color.


Would you hold my hand while I told

you lies?

Would you stand with me if I showed you

my naked fear?


And yet there is hope, for tonight

signing off with you on the phone,

I said I love you; and, like a star newly born,

like the sun lighting a new

day, you said the same. This


is the arrow hitting

the center of the target.


Published in 34THPARALLEL

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