I encountered a young Colorado woman, once,
from a distance. Our trails crossed in our personal badlands.
A beauty, she had the raw fire of a mustang.
I caught her at a terrible time in her life.
Or should I say, she caught me.
Her marriage was coming apart,
her husband having lost interest and sunk into cruelty and betrayals.
We never met, except
electronic ghosts. She writhed and wrote of her pain,
her bruised pride and injured beauty.
She touched us with her anger and anguish,
her soul’s search for beauty nonetheless,
In that state she painted lurid images of
what she would do with me,
to me, what she wanted from me,
pinned against a wall, legs apart,
full of anger, fury, revenge.
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