Practice using a free write I suppose.
How you know its over.
When you grab his clavicle searching for a pulse,
and his eyes no longer look like the galaxies they used to.
Don't be alarmed, The whisper in his lips is merely
a single cloud in the sky waiting to wring out rain.
He'll covet every tiptoe in the house and glass jar it,
remembering all the ways you used to break in loneliness.
The touch won't feel the same, when your chest heaves like
submerged wood and he leaves a note"I went to grab medicine,"
his phone on the counter. There will come a time when you lay
your fingers across his hand like a plum over its scarred seeds,
He'll look down and sigh.
No comments:
Post a Comment