when it came to us.
Your hand on my lap,
all my songs marred.
You fell for me there,
your fingers in my hair.
I showed you the spot
you were starting to fray.
I begged you to stop,
you continued to press.
I sat with you again
to say you were guilty
Of taking my heart
and trying to split it.
I closed your door there,
the one you once opened
To take me someplace
where all pain was softened.
Mar Fresno
