when there are no roles left
when he has finally come
back to the fearful point he had fled from
where all pain & futility he has felt dwells
knowing the hell she knelt in
& yet gave birth
                          he is torn between praise & scorn
the wanting that has screamed inside him
afraid to face again
the emptiness he felt calling her name
in a darkened room the mind inhabits as its own
knowing the love he felt for her she could never return
burned up by the passion of her own dead desires
no life for the living form crawled out of her
who still, today, moves under the sway of that hunger
will not be consoled
no matter what arms he finds to hold him
what nipples his mouth closes round
because he is older & the wanting will not make it so