Sunday, June 21, 2009

Shark Tank.


he traced a heart with his finger on my chest 
and drew a line from the heart down my arm
like a target for your air pistol.
your indifference took aim and fired.
*
There are too many unanswered what-ifs
and raw nerves dangling for me to see you anymore.
I sit here wracked with anxiety and running out of oxygen
at the bottom of a shark tank filled with sharks we trained together.
*
The quiet swooshes of my heart and their tails in unison have become
a dull ache reminder of what could have been.

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