Paper Love
By Susan Doyle

We newspaper talked
but more often,
screamed,
ripping anger,
each breathing
the fire of blame
for his death.

But edging closer
to black consuming loneliness
our desperate eyes
finally met.

Taping our singed pieces,
the stickiness was lost.
The glued-on corners
wouldn't hold.

But through stacks upon stacks
of piled time
our paper love
was stitched together
and although there are still
a few holes
we wouldn't have it
any other way.

Susan Doyle lives in Wester Massachusettes with her husband, two sons, and two daughters. She has been published in several small press magazines and is currently writing a book called "The Female Spirit." She collects monkeys and apes.