Revenge

This time we went too far –
crossing that invisible line
from nothing to something
and then running away –
pretending a stand
had not been taken after all.
I have longed from afar
for your embrace
for a very long time –
must I continue to do so
now? Don’t run away –
we haven’t even begun
to play this game –
we both knew the rules
and yet we broke them.
Don’t pretend – I saw
your eyes when you called me
“Bitch” and know
what the word implied.
You can not deny
that your reserve was
infiltrated and the troops
were gathered round were
for your protection.
I hope you are hurting
as I am – may the scars
run deep in your soul,
imprinting my essence
like a lingering fragrance
into your memory . . .
You have scorched
a place not touched before
and I pray that you ache
with a longing so strong
no recourse exists
but the cooling touch
of my hand –
If you reject
the gift I offered
may your soul burn
with a fever no other feminine
hands can still and
let the blaze continue
until no longer can you feel
anything but the intensity
of a fiery hot flame
burning, burning, burning . . .
If my touch is turned away
I pray each day
you wake to a grief
beyond reckoning invading you –
torturing and twisting
into crispy, dark embers
what once passed for
a loving, caring heart
If I can not have
a place beside you
neither would I want
a simpering substitute
reigning in what
should be my throne.