We have dipped into ourselves
about as far as we can get and
tasted the dark liquor.
I feel my bones creaking as you reach for more of me.
Are there so few who dare to look at
every inch, not caring about the consequences?
You have cracked me open
like a slick buckeye.
We have not gone nearly far enough
and yet I know we’ve gone too far.
There is no dream to soothe the pain.
There is no happy ending.
by Cher Bibler
