Deep Waters

by Chestlyn Draghoender

Sometimes
when I think of you
my body trembles;
not with fear or shame
but with anger.

Sometimes
when we speak of you,
I cannot fathom how
a man can be so cruel –
your face too hard to look at,
your hatred like a virus,
ripping those you touch.

And I can see the signs –
a rigorous tongue
with broken humour;
I can smell the scent by which
everyone knows you.
But then
who knows the thoughts
of a man?

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