Anger
Your anger is a stone.
It is flint.
It is hard edges that cut me.
See: I bleed.
I hold it in my hands
and I can see where it was torn from
in your heart.
It is real.
Authentic.
It is flesh of your flesh.
It is mine.
I will take it
and place it on the cairn
beside the other tokens of our love.
March 5, 2000
