Around Four
Kara Lamb
Waking up alone
I realize.
There isn't even warmth
in the space on my right side.
And the covers tossed and turned
of you
have wrestled me against a wall.
Later
when the sun slips through windows
in Venetian lines
straight and sharp
only my shadow crosses
behind the table
set for two.
Mornings cease livelihood.
Now it is always afternoon.
I am sitting at the table
by the window
behind the blinds
sunset slats
bar down on me like
one dimensional Dali drawers
undrawn out
Still my most inner sides
seem missing
and i watch the orange afterglow
fade away
behind hills we hiked together.
Now it isn't even afternoon.
|
