The Last Word

The argument was over,

The one they couldn't exit,

although it had all been said.

He couldn't budge if he’d wanted to

couldn't hold forgiveness in his hand,

or pull peace from betrayal.

They were young and in love,

They were fierce and mean about it,

and it was too much for either, finally.

Over now, the buzzing that kept them

repeating, kept them from sleeping,

from feeling like going home.

They hoped it would break, the undertow,

break into waves and let them float

there, still, and take a breath.

She wanted to call out, but didn't.

She wanted to touch him, as if just this once

she could be Christ to his Lazarus,

but she knew that was only a story

and only then, what a terrible story.

His voice had turned to weight.

-Brent Allard