Nothing between him and me
Our thin skins.
What is gone: the walls
The defenses fortified with
Rationalizations, excuses, lies, omissions
Secrets fused with half-truths and convolutions
Excavations of an unspoken sort.
Gone — those pockets of protected years and past
Liaisons so carefully hidden away where
No new lover of normal ilk could find them.
Nothing left between him and me.
Just our thin skins, which cannot hold up
To the heavy friction of our yelling and screaming
And cursing you, damning you
To the nightmare of the hell we share.
Nothing left between us, now that the walls of normal folk
Have been worn away
Left to be soft dirt dribbled along the path we traveled
To forget those packages of pain we left behind,
When we found each other.
Want to feel real? Want to feel alive?
Our thin skins leave the nerve endings raw
A little friction, and watch the memories come alive.
We hug each other until they subside.
Then we are left with just ourselves
And each other,
Nothing between us,
But our taut, thin skins.
© 2009 Barbara E. Berger, All rights reserved.