She Was My Lover

By the Lean Cat

I watched as she was stripped / as they dragged a scalpel across her head / ripped the cloth from her breast, and entered her.

I was hog tied. / My screams were as nothing in the ears of our captors – / they were deaf men / who have spent a lifetime inside machines.

She was my lover. / We lay together as one / in sunlight shadows / and beneath a mulatto moon.

Each season came to us bearing gifts; / In spring, a riot of growth / in summer, the lush scent of moss; / in the fall, we were showered by maple leaves / sweet smelling as syrup / and in winter snow comforted us / with white waves of lace.

She was my lover.

With each thrust of the cold blade / I watched her leave her body. / She went to a place of peace where dozers don’t exist / and God isn’t the green envy of commerce.

I saw her die / and wished myself dead / my mouth gagged with pulp paper.

We were as entwined as camphor vines. / We were as old as memories yet unthought.

She was my lover. / We were severed. / There’s a cover-up of her murder – / complicity on the authorities’ part. / They know, but will not tell.

I watched liquid the color of dried blood / run from her eyes and veins, / I was helpless. / Her hair smelled of dust. / My screams were nothing / lost in the cyclops beep / of pissed machines / jerking hellbent in reverse / against the lifelines of the sacrosanct.

She was my lover. She was.

© Michael M. Barrick, 2023.