Utter
Her words came down as if they fell from scars
Across the moon. She had not meant to hurt,
Which only made it worse. As cold as Mars
Her sentence entered me. It was the dirt
Beneath Antarctic ice. It wasn’t that
The words were toneless, though that helped to cause
The wound. The agony derived from flat
Facts, desert-like, inside her heart. The laws
Of love are harder than the banks of hell.
No ship can come to port in love’s domain
Unless it meets love’s strictest rules. The fell
Demands of sentiment are deaf to pain.
..Her words reduced me to the exiled ring
….Of Saturn, a deep space, blank vanquishing.