The Woods

Long days, longer nights
spent bickering, unable to stop
the past
not easily erased

The cliff, altitude grazing the heavens
she hangs over the side, hands locked
fused to mine, my body stretched
my knotted arm, the rope
tendons tear against bone.
It’s not the weight that hurts
It’s the thought of pulling her up

She cries, kicks against rocks.
Muscles scream, grip relaxes
She slips.
Relief





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