twenty-seven

tears have left trails in the dirt on my cheeks
i seeded our garden, but you invited the weeds
i’ve pulled them out till my hands knew each thorn
did my scars then make me worthy of your scorn?

i got on my knees, & put my proposal in the dirt
as their hands held stones, mine held your hurt
my thumb wiped the tears left by your fickle lovers
then, as my lips leaned in, yours pressed another’s

i know the ache when a cherished heart turns
i drank my cup, even knowing it wouldn’t return
you wallow as if my covenant were fragile in your sorrow
i walked between the carcass when you couldn’t follow