when I die

you'll miss the loving

and all the good times


but you won't miss

the circumstances

that rubbed us raw as scrapes


on the arm of a starfish


so it will be

so much love and hate

pulling us with centrifugal force


into spasms of dark ecstasies

wilting us in the living sea's foam

so much love and hate knotted tight


in one tarnished vow






Content (c) 2008-2016 Philip Milito.