Arrow

I am held and aimed. I go where blood drips.
Usually there is a man. Usually there is love involved.
Unrequited, if not loathing unresolved.
I fly iron-tipped, like a hook. I cannot be undone.
I am sent from him: I carry all his love in one instant.
Shot straight from cupid's bow. I disappear.
And then I am in her heart, piercingly, with a sigh.
She is full of sorrow, now needing somebody, not there.
Who is he? She does not know what she yearns.
She is possessed, with a deep longing and a deep loving.

Now I am deep red, throbbing, and possibly hurting.
I am painfully unmade and missing. Like flowers
without flowering, or sunsets without the sun.
She reaches for me, holed and hollowed.
I echo over places where a beloved used to be.
Her eyes are absent and I am waiting. Forever
is her new concept of identity. She remembers.
She escapes within her heart.
Today, time ticks and she wastes it all, mourning.
Tonight she does not sleep, as she lies in bed feelingly.

// 09 Sep 2019