Sour

I could mend these apologies
into the uneven brick
from those tireless, unsent letters

Telling days 
of the ways
"Sorry" 
Just won't suffice

Our eternity
is aligned with 
the excuses
and answers
that were never
solutions.

The skidmarks in your eyes
drew more dim
when I wore that wry smile
and we were convinced

that this, this,
paradise would plead us
through, but paradise
had tired of you

Turning awry
from that last
sullen kiss,

That last bitter parcel
of a liason, amiss

slain into these palms
as love's edgings rust

as a sour stone
turned to dust.