I am sorry,
really sorry...
a B52 missile has just struck my drawer.
in it,
I kept my black satin gloves
a few lines of poetry
a couple of love letters...
I am sorry,
really sorry
so sorry...
I would have loved to,
loved to...
but I need to collect
debris,
broken glass,
shattered windows
wooden splinters...
right where my drawer was
right where my gloves slept
right where my love letters longed
right where my poetry lines
were carved...
on black satin.
