JAMIE

The hurt extends
to an immeasurable
depth of sorrow.
Forced to leave
connected, lingo, laughing,
nick-name closeness
that only lasts
in a narrow window
of time.
And the window
is closing on Jamie.
No desire to form
another body of
camaraderie.
So she talks on the
phone nightly
to old ties.
A military kid.
A fifteen-year-old girl.
Beautiful and in love.
As in love as any
age experiences.
He cries on the phone
and says that he loves her.
Her tears water
the depths of her heart.
They are not allowed
to flow on the outside
because she is learning
the hollow technique
of building walls
to protect herself
from painful attachments.