One Dies A Little

One dies a little

Like a tuber in the snow

whose roots are

too shallow

or an apple torn from its stalk,

still green and sour

One dies  a little

The undulations of a wave 

rising up just enough to

drown a little

One loves  a little 

Until one dies  a little 

The part that wants “Invisible”

The part that cries  a little. 

One dies a little 

The  raw wound of night

The raging torrent of impossible sadness

And compromise

Makes the heart die a little

                                         In  the pillaging of things beloved

The subtle rejection,

The insensitive remark

absent the human touch

Absent a kind word

One dies a little

The disrespect,

the insult

the indifference

makes the heart cry a little

Until one dies a little

And can die no more