Wednesday, August 27, 2003

the same either way you look at it

i imagine if i stretch
my arms out, squeeze my
eyes tightly shut, grasp
the pillow
legs gripping the sheets tightly
i might be able
to smell him, to feel
his arms hold me
as i turn.
no amount of comfort can
feel like his presence
it was a mistake;
i stretch and flounder
against the wall
i imagine his excess of pillows
beside my body,
now dismally absent in this
new reality
the bed is cold;
i am alone.
i have not been alone in years.
now even a twin bed is
acres too big for my
fetally shaped sleep
devoid of warm limbs
intertwining with mine and
stealing the down comforter
which threatens to engulf me
in its mass
with his absence.

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