Relief I’m balancing on the head of a pin with you. We’ve been chiseling at the rock of ages; Whittled it down to a wedge, then a sliver, now to a single point: we’ve been cornered by heaven. I’m stuck on the head of this pin with you. We’ve squawked about jealousy, gouged out our complexion, reminisced about walking, chiseled away curls. I am not convinced that hate is unholy that truth is a love parade. We don’t have a bridge to love. We hammered that sucker to its grave. And now we’ve crafted this single point: We are a relief sculpture revealed and solitary.