Red: The Love Poems

The Womb and The Lung

I opened to you

my womb — giving

part of me. Yet, I was blind

to the open tomb

that, inside, you would be…

And…

almost suffocating

from the grains

of your dirt,

I fought through

darkness that you enchanted

me with…

Now I breathe

with a broken lung

and my womb

is just like dung —

all that was saved

is me.

Yes, the wounds are

there and, yes, the wounds are

real; just like the

others you beat.

The others;

alone and unable to connect

again —

disillusioned by your false love;

they hide in lonely tents.

With all that’s left;

with what remains,

we all try to make our due,

though haunted by visions; lies

and delusions of still

being with you.

You, the pit and

the open tomb

that took a hold of our feet.

We fell;

thinking it was love,

but, love’s not

six feet deep.

Our hearts may mend,

our minds may calm;

seeing the truth; like truth

is sung.

Yet, our reward will tinge

in dung-filled wombs

and burn

in broken lungs.