We named it

And we named it failure.
Pressed trees shook in the evening,
odd light filtering through the leaves.
I collapsed, dry heaving,
cradled one hand in the other.
You ladled the bone soup.

Perhaps I should backtrack.
Perhaps I have a certain knack
for misrepresentation.

At the filling station,
I found two hearts in a jar.
One for violence, the other for memory.
The moment lapsed
into a longer one as  I stood
contemplating my find.
It was autumn, I think.

You trapped me in the sinkhole
of a four letter word that I dare not repeat,
and from there, the world
became a confused and dissonant elegy
for some former version of itself.
It took the present tense in its teeth
and dropped it at our feet,
a sobbing, pink, wrinkled,
indeterminate mass.

And we named it failure.

-r. miller

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2 thoughts on “We named it

  1. That’s what you get, when you put everything into loving someone, without reserving something for yourself to have in case the love doesn’t work out, but, it’s a brave thing that you did, putting your heart out, for the world to see openly…

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