This Favor, Love



a poem about needing to heal from heartache and asking for help to do it

This Favor, Love

I will lean slightly forward t’ward you -- brace

against this desert rock and close my eyes.

Pull the arrow out from its fevered space ---


Quickly -- I know your tenderness, your grace.

I need no counted warning, no reprise.


I’ve gasped for breath for hours now… or days.

The radiating pain is no surprise.


When it is done, take reins and ride for miles,

all settled now, your girl relieved in haste,


your love an ichor from the veins of gods

who fly and swim and always win the race,


poured straight into my heart to clean the wound,

and let it slowly stop its stubborn pace.


(painting borrowed from

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