karma sutra

this crushing pain,
heavy
on my chest,
is love.
incalculable,
inseverable,
inside.

outside,
the world spins.
and spin she does
with faithful and fateful
constancy.

hateful in her headstrong determination;
she overlooks,
with flippancy
and nonchalance,
the rocks she throws off
that hit, every time,
with insidious precision.

cold, callous, calculated –
they hit.
they break.
they destroy.
but she doesn’t care.
why should she?
she has no heart.
she is made of stone,
she is stoning.

the body, bruised.
the mind, splintered.

i watch,
from within
and outwith,
her relentless trajectory.
with every sunrise
she brings chaos,
pain.

what to do
except be there;
to repair the broken threads,
to rebuild the crumbling walls,
to love,
to touch,
to listen?

and i listen.
i listen hard.

my ears, and heart,
determined
to hear her
reason
and rationale.
my fuse is short;
my trajectory, shorter.
unyielding.
purposeful.
stoic.

she spins
incessantly.
in a wake of emotional carnage
i watch
as his boat struggles –
amid the flood of her Charybdis –
to remain afloat;
battered
bruised
breaking apart.

it breaks the heart.

oh this ache.
this yearning –
borne of unsurmountable frustration –
drives harder.
there is no rhyme
nor reason;
no rosy hue in her rationale.

all is monochrome.

fighting fire
with fire,
i am immovable.
i will not bow to her.
i will not watch her seek and destroy,
or play him like a toy.
this lioness heart,
fiercely protective,
will savage;
ravage the bare bones
of her causal agent.
i am immune
to her disease.

she is sick.

this crushing pain,
heavy
on my chest,
is love.
incalculable,
inseverable,
inside.

love will prevail,
nurture and protect.
l’amour est un cas de force majeure.

(c) Kat McDonald 2014

for Robert Davidson, my heart and my home.

“The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself.” Lao Tzu.