Radio Silence
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You’re in the wind.
Afterglow of tail lights in a pull off, vanish with a sudden, side street left. I am still the spot I stood in then. You’re elsewhere, husband-held I suppose. All of your hues linger on the walls, the muddle of sheets. Straight to voicemail, your hushed loop. I start thinking in terms of years. The way your nude hand sheathed the wedding band one. The way I took to the bottle and drowned. Let’s make a run for it. Let’s not. Your non-song, falsetto into crushed pillow. My unconscious body for days on end. The literal passage of time. I’ve discovered a fine thing- No, I haven’t really. Just that the wind passes and you can stand still long enough to hear a murmur of breeze. Maybe a pulse. Or nothing. Nothing at all. |