It Has to be Enough

She wears scars visible;
her tattoed heart-on-sleeve
inaccessible, in spite of

she maintains
distance, physical
and otherwise;
the intimate us
breathes in text
transmitted by
an unseen,
ghostly wire

I throw myself at her
to pull her to a safer self;
like a life buoy, I do
more harm than intended

To meet seems dangerous;
I wait to for an invitation
and wonder who cornered whom

she talks a round of talk;
I navigate the untangling,
direct us, spiral down to
a black-muck rotten bottom
we somewhat share

her trust has its limits;
I stay when she asks
and leave when she doesn't

Heather Reed 2011