Prezioso
The pain of losing you began to swell
Like hints of seismic tremors underground;
Like healthy lungs starting to . . . feel unwell . . .
To send some unknown poisons all around
A heart that hurts before the wound is dealt.
Inside the chest a painful numbness flopped
As if stunned ribs received a whiplash welt
But would not know it till the slashing stopped,
Years from now, decades. Nausea began
To flow before the trauma, this because
My body knew—as if a beached merman
Predicted suffocation in the jaws
Of air—your impending disappearance.
Soul scars never know a healing clearance.