The Pain

At a time like this you should relieve the pain.

Why — when it goes — do you grieve the pain?

A rain of dust, a dry river, this lonely country

stands by a window again to receive the pain.

Trust yourself if you cannot trust another

scheme. Worship faults, believe the pain.

Even love is one letter away from hiding its hand. 

How many kisses will it take to deceive the pain?

When your childhood monsters creep up, weep 

them a lullaby so they can perceive the pain.

In a silent abandoned garden I grow life to elixir

my body, my baby dying on Christmas eve, the pain.

Shannan, you have written it all down now, hoping

people in pages can feel — how naive! — the pain.