“Argument” by Dianne Borsenik


Raked across skin, the edge of a word
Sword of castigation, dull blade of wasted breath

Another place of close walls and rusted nightstands
Endless hours without sleep, empty roles to play

This morning, the dogs were silent; and the rain,
Incessant, striped windowpanes with its blue music

Another crucifixion, another chilly prayer
Lost in the ether of life without parole