Loneliness, a dirge upon a trailer wall:
Put it away, you will not play
those sounds while I am here.
I will put you in my pocket,
I will take you wherever I go;
We will hold each other’s hands while making love to him.
Heartache, an echo across a shadowed lake:
Give it to me, I want to be
your source of security.
I will touch your hair till morning,
I will hold back all my own desires;
We will walk together along this pine-pricked path.
Solitude, a spectre against an evening sky:
Let’s shout it down, put your arms round
my waist — united stand.
I will keep you part of my life,
I will never close the door on you;
We will build temples and kingdoms mortared with our pain.
Cheryl L. Bruno is a writer and blogger with research interests in 19th century Mormon history.