I sat across from Resentment
close enough to feel his breathlessness
close enough to hold his hand and pick
splintered jaw from his fingernails.
Throat muck rose to the tip of my tongue
Swallow, he said.
Swallow, he said again, slower.
Why, was my small reply.
And a thousand petals fell in his open mouth and eyes.
Why is all you had to say, he said, and he was dead.
Why is all I had to say, I stood and walked away.