Black ink and sunbeams poetry

You,

first of the last chapters,

split the balance of my heart

inequitably

that’s ok,

there is nothing to forgive, to regret

for I enter exile

with your smell lingering upon my skin,

your eyes reflected in moonlit pools,

sharp as Artemis’s arrow

full, beautiful, generous

and your love etched deeper

than my scars

gentle as a whisper, more ferocious

than a

memory