March 12, 2012 § 4 Comments
This morning I’m wondering, what happened to my husband?
where is he?
did I forget to get one?
I would like to respire, reflect
That are reaching me on this poignant right side which is sunk
Against the twill and my dynamic past,
With my mouth fitted dully around a taut grisly nipple.
And to not have it mean anything, remotely:
Especially not not brushing me away,
(she is drawn by a mark which wasn’t there earlier)
– where are you my insouciant love