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Date Posted: 22:45:40 12/04/02 Wed
Author: Porthos
Subject: regret

Regret

There always comes that point
when the sickness sets in: guts
curdle and sinuses molt.
I clutched my cape and spoke
thunder over the crowd. I
had them pulled in like nurse sharks
and bled them, oh how I bled them.
Then let them go. They swim
away indignantly, knowing just desserts.
And when they return, there is the churning
in my gut at the hook scar. And we will never
talk about it.

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