LoneFury

on the far side of the river where it curves the water pushes farther onto the land and turns it to mud I write your name into it with my foot limping in half steps the way wounded animals move feeling your name harden in my throat I gouge the shape of it into the squelching earth over and over until your facelessness coats the riverbank first with my heel then with a broken stick and finally on my knees I draw each syllable out with my fingers, touching them to my lips every time it's finished.