Malice

In meditation I let go of the shadows of our past.

I was on an island. The air thick with fog, the water murky and black.

They emerged out of the water, dripping in black malice. 

I observed, until it was time for me to leave.

I cupped their face, the malice dripping onto my hands.

The tears dripping from my face.

The love untangling from my soul.

I got on a rowboat and left the malice on the island.

To be forever stuck in a cycle of grief.