K.

Ice

(dedicated to a man who looked too much like P., 1987)

Turn away from me.
I cannot stand the look of you. Your hair as long, your eyes...

Pain. Do not touch me. Healer's hands as sensitive to metal as to a soul.
You cannot be...I can not stand the sight of you.

Do not speak. The empath hears your soul. It screams at me.
I do not want to hear you.

Please. Do not look at me. I can not stand the hallowness in your eyes.
I can not stand the look of you.

Every word you say is a reminder of who you may yet be.
Your eyes, your voice, your build, all speak of one who was and is no longer.

Pray. He was and you are. You cannot be the same.
The grave does not return for you or me.

Turn away from me, for I do not deserve you to ever be my friend.