The Once-Worthy Adversary
Who were you to defang that dark flower that bloomed in my heart,
Domesticate the animalities of my girlhood that had not yet learned to grieve
With your heart like stone fruit, unripened and bitter to the taste —
You are no more than an idea hung aloft in a vacuum of love,
Alone with your loveless longing and your infinite and unutterable emptiness
Meticulously picked clean yet dank with damp —