Behind Anger
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Tonight I am alone and the sadness is breaking me
the way thin lines run through porcelain.
We could have this fight forever, you and I.
We have it over and over, using different props or words
but it’s the same one and I want to say:
come here now, just come here now,
I need to feel the smooth skin of your face,
but if you were here
I would withhold my arm from you:
anger is like that.
It brings its own momentum and has its own will,
and behind anger we are too unprotected,
like houses that stand abandoned, shutters banging,
and fear mutters on whatever blows through.