I asked her why they named her Destiny.
She smiled and whispered of hidden power,
barely spoke of fate and love’s mystery.
We must have lay in mute dark for an hour.
She asked me why I wouldn’t say my name.
I smiled and whispered, “Anonymity
keeps me safe, life’s high price for fickle fame.”
Torchbearer’s eyes said she didn’t believe me.
Somebody’s outside, shattering fragile night,
shouting drunken lies.
My body’s inside, alone and out of sight.
No one hears me cry.
I asked her why she had to go. “Please stay,”
I whispered. She studied me as she dressed,
closed the door when she left. Some poets say
such ending’s a tragedy. Some say it’s best.
Roger Armbrust
July 12, 2018
