The Barrier
The Barrier I would barricade myself inside a poem. Becoming increasingly critical, I would see my own image everywhere and hide my enemies on that side of the mirror. I would fall in love twice a year, buy 1000 roses. With no gift of abundance inside me, I would worship the penuries of sobriety, allow them to catch up to my sorrows. I would wake his stony heart and give him one of flesh.