On The Death Of My Friend's Father Poem by Donna Ialongo

i love
you love
his love is so big you
froze from the heat of it,
pulled like a butterfly
from you.
your omnipresent
inner beating is gone. he is
God's most believing non-believer -
for what has he to clutch fearing
and love squeezing? - you
shaking and quivering coldly like
an eyelash crying settled
on the swelling pink kiss of
your cheek? no, his wise
wearied hand fits in the battling fist
of Love. the half-glass of
drink clutched at your veins,
which burst when his futility
found itself sitting on his lips and
touching hard your face contorting.
you cried and my tortured hand knew
your tears but my eyes didn't want
to see.

(May 16,1965)