Tethered

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

Clasping my hands in uncertainty,

I protest in prayer to

whatever powers that be,

falling to my knees

like drops of ice in a hailstorm.

There is no sun, no light,

but I’m a moth drawn to

my unwanted connection to you.

My soul intertwines with yours

and you reject it

like a cancer, like a plague —

every dismissal a lashing of grief.

I am tethered through layers

of weakness, denial, desire.

I cannot decipher how to sever

this calcified rock of a knot

tying me to you.