When you did not come back for me,
I bit off my braid and walked
my heaviness to the river
and cursed the many ways I had
sought to hold you, how I had stood
bloodless under the victor’s flag,
disarmed pillage, all my hopes quivering
mother-of-pearl in the moonlight.
Once, love was an unmarked territory,
a way to forge an uncommon ground.
Then, love lit a burning boundary,
and lifted its great wings in shame and
circled and circled and circled.