Torn Asunder
Bridget Sweeney
Standing in the skyscraper chasm
it sounded like Kleenex ripping.
But I know you heard it.
Your hands flew up
to cover your ears
and you winced.
Yellow light fell
across you face
from an empty display window.
This protracted rending
of our lives
is eating away at me
like meat dropped
in a Coke
I’m sorry
you had to choose.
Even sorrier
that I lost.
The healing ahead
looks as inviting
as the Interstate
through Barstow.
And the noise
from our spirits tearing
wrenches me
from a damp city sleep
to grapple blindly
for water and light.
We’ve all lost.
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