The tiny sparrow, defenseless against
The wind, a victim of her own choosing,
Sang loud and long in defiance of guilt
That flowed through her veins like rough opium.
Denial proved the case: regrets still hung
Around her quivering throat, her frail neck,
Garlands of bloodstained rubies with her prints
Brutally unmasked against the hard gleam.
I have learned from the timbre of her voice
To live in perpetual discomfort
With these useless emotions and accept
That my regrets will continue to play
The role of unwanted, unloved partner
As long as I hold on to human life.