HOME / poem: A weekly poem, read by the author.

The Wedge

By Gregory OrrPosted Wednesday, Nov. 13, 1996, at 3:30 AM ET

When there were two of us
there was one world

and one moon. When you
died, I was alone

in another world
whose two moons

of grief and rage
wax and wane

in the starless sky.
By their light,

all I eat becomes
ashes on my tongue.

Now I can't stand
to be touched

or to see anyone
touching. When I find

lovers, I set
this wedge between them:

love is no use,
though lovers are used;

who seeks to soothe
will only bruise.

Print This ArticlePRINTEmail to a FriendE-MAILShare This ArticleRECOMMEND...Get Slate RSS FeedsRSS
Gregory Orr's most recent book is City of Salt. He teaches at the University of Virginia.
What did you think of this article?
Join The Fray: Our Reader Discussion Forum
POST A MESSAGE | READ MESSAGES
The places we live.TODAY'S PICTURES: The places we live.
Cartoonists' take on homosexuality.TODAY'S CARTOONS: Cartoonists' take on homosexuality.
How low she can go.TODAY'S DOONESBURY: How low she can go.
Washington Post
The Washington Post
OPINIONS
Secretary Clinton?
Broder | It's not a good fit for her talents, or the next president.
Toles: A Layered ProblemEditorial: What Would Bill Do?