It ended as it had begun
with an agonized scream of unfulfilled need
and bitter accusations.
Somewhere in the wasteland that
spans the space
between your Truth
and my Truth
lies a defeated reality
too tired to raise a sword to fight
against the muscled beasts that feast on
the bloody collision of dreams and memory.
But when the tears dry
and the pain eases
and the anger fades away to mist,
I vow that all that will remain in me
is memory of your wicked wit
and playful passion,
and the joy that surged in me because of you.
These memories much too valuable a toy
to throw outside the pram