your will of course would
eventually do the work
driving a wedge between us
edging deeper into the

splintering cracks, slowly
revealing the tumour
that digested the bark
of our rotting timber

and sensing the end, an
accumulated intent added
weight to your will with
exaggerated swings

and staccatoed slashes
of blades that finally did
the felling, as silence found us
on this killing floor