No, No More

No, she said,
more breath than song,
the tone crisped away to ashes,
the lilt fired to a brittle heap,
the hope charred and sharpened:
all embers and shards
left behind to barb anything else
she wished to say.


Yes, he said,
his hand thrust out to catch the words,
crush them into a lump of glowing coal,
and fling them harder still,
that they might leave behind a weeping sore,
and the scent of burning feathers
and blistered stumps
where the wings
might once have been.


2 thoughts on “No, No More

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