Two Complimentary Poems: Soulmate and Reconciled

Soulmate

I loved her once.
I wasn’t sure.
Soulmates, though
she would shout
as the wind whipped
through twin brunettes
and identical grins.
Racing horses,
hooves beating
summer sun baked
ground. Up the hills,
she would always win.
I, holding my gelding back.
Always, I held everything back.
Soulmates she would murmur.
White scars on forearms,
she showed me where to wear
the pain. I displayed my burn marks
and she taught me how to cut.
Skin stories of the weary,
no longer innocent of heart.
Soulmates she would slur
as the disco ball slung lights
across her body, her hands
beckoning me to dance.
My hands cold around
the plastic cup—
cranberry and vodka and
pain killers. Ignored soon, she
was on the prowl.
Soulmates she said
on her wedding day.
Soulmates she would remind me
the first time we stopped talking.
Soulmates I whispered to silence
the second time she betrayed me.
I loved her once.

 

Reconciled

And we collided back together one night
I, ignoring the tenderness of long-harbored bruises.
And it was the sound of a roar in my ears because
we, we never did anything tentatively.
Remember who we were before?
Before the silence took its flesh and bone.
I remember the pounding of a pair of hooves,
racing each other until I fell off and my horse,
he lost me in the long grass until I raised my head
and he jumped and we laughed and laughed.
Who are we now?
Raw and wounded from the world,
our hands bloody from holding on.
Maybe tonight was the right night to collide.
We’ll turn those wounds into scars
and then wear them proud.

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