{Saturday Jun 2nd}
Awoke a day late.
Slept through an argument I was supposed
to apologize for.
“I’m sorry you’re hurt,” it went, “but I’m not sorry to have
said those things.”
Said it to the cloud in me, my eyes.
No, not sorry, mainly
because they, the words, rang truer than the sound of a waterfall slowly
crushing rocks into oblivion.
Slowly falling from the river’s of the past.
But
what do rocks know, anyway?
Words heavier than the galaxy;
sorry; heavier than
the black draped fabric weighing down the mortal soul;
heap abrasive wool scratching
the back of significance.
So, yes, I was sorry for hurting you.
It went.
But I
wasn’t sorry to have said those things.
There I go.
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