On thinking back, I contemplate the scene,
the carcass of the two of us laid bare
Oh, I've had years to scrape and pick it clean
to bleached white bones, embalmed in arid air.
I study minor remnants left behind:
those incidents, and moments, and degrees
like fragments of our DNA entwined
then calibrate our lives' trajectory.
And thinking this is fine, the past is safe,
I stray into the mind's forbidden zone
and see, too late, the tape, the cordoned place
the spreading stain of memories disowned.
Now, with the pain of loss, like broken glass,
and tainted with regrets, I'm unmasked.