Last night the sky shed its stars like tears.
We had a fight. The breeze didn’t blow.
You said you wouldn’t come back;
those words were the devil’s hammer;
shattered my soul and pinned down my heart
beneath the rubble, like paperweight.
I tried to argue. You argued too.
We yelled silently at each other,
I was Ali – heartbroken Ali,
practiced in the art of brawl.
‘Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.’
Your hands have hit what your eyes can’t see.
What evil drove Romeo?
What madness spurred Jack?
What evil was Helen, temptress of man?
This morning the birds are twittering.
I can hear mother talking below.
I wait for you to say something. You don’t.
Soon I wipe off our silent fight, silently.