MINEFIELD OF WORDS
it wasn't my intention
to speak those words
but there they were
exploding
from somewhere
deep, buried, hidden
even from me
a minefield
poised to release
poison arrows
maiming the recipient
you
drawing in breath,
sharply punctuated
by searing pain
watching you walk away
wondering if you will ever
forgive
return
not abhor me
may I perform triage
nurse your wounds
offer restitution
perhaps
amputate my tongue?
I would, I could
for I
am
sorry
K. Tate Jacoby
copyright March 8, 2012
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