Lovestruck

Every inch

that you draw back

the bowstring

arches the arrow

further

into the heart of me

you must

also be

good at archery

because you have

pierced me

right through

I have practiced

the unvoiced exhalation

so many times

when injured

it is a sigh

it is a puff of breath

the enigmatic

half-smile smile

doesn’t falter

probably you are shrugging

and putting away

the quiver of arrows

happy that you

have got it

once again

dead in the black.

Photo courtesy of Master Marcus Bowyer.