The intimacy of agony is located
between stares and stifled tremblings,
thumb pressed against suddenly sensitive
bottom lip that precedes the uncontrollable flood.
The landscape formed between you and me to explain
the alluvial plain that rises before our eyes,
we give to each other in wordless contract
made, granted, and paid in an instant.
Kind release from stares of resentment,
anger you would feel such agony in front of me,
the crushing of the heart as if it were a useless
potato, wet and moldy, soft, that tastes like shit;
we feebly offer this as if it were a present, a jewel
of rare proportion; we, the afflicted, offer it as a token
of love and affection; we, the hopeless, bear this broken
heart before us like a life preserver that failed us,
now a lens beneath water to clarify and resolve
last tremors of continents parting from each other,
new seas and oceans filling the chasm, the canyon;
the inevitable brought so tangibly to scrutiny;

only the intimate can admit their suffering.