Poetry

For Mulder and Krycek.

To Forget

Forgetting for a time that we were
Bitter enemies
Forgetting that the mark upon my head
Was placed by your hand,
With crafty long fingers,
Supine grace –
Forgetting all of that
Except the slash across my cheek
And my throat choked with lace
And blood and bruising fingertips
Like hieroglyphs on my skin,
You writing on paper-thin
Rupturing veins with your sharp, staccato beat,
The touch of the tool impersonal
The rasp of your blows everlasting
And the blunt edges of your words scathing.
Forgetting all these things, for a time,
Forgetting to be hardened and angry
Like the mountains and sheetrock, tough like
Sandpaper and the rough slide of brick
Along my cheek, your hand pressing
Against my back, along my spine,
Deftly crafty fingers crawling up, pinching,
With the sting of the scorpions tail and
The kiss of a bitter movement,
A crescendo, a crash, a wave of disaster –
Unending.

-Meixia H. (c)2004

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I *swear* - I'm going to go study and be productive now!