The Untapped Well in the Back Field

I can't share it with you
Because it all comes back
As heart-sticking recrimination
And randomly slung blame
That deepest strata of feelings
Below everything I ever was
Where heat and pressure
Applied over geologic time
Turns all to a black muck
Formless and half-forgotten
Clinging to whatever it touches
Burning whenever it feels the air
So the well remains untapped
And we drift further apart
On currents in unseen black seas

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This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 2006