unloving begins
with the setting of the sun,
with the falling of the tides.

I realized how accustomed
I had grown to the feeling;
of wind on my skin,
of hailstones falling.

Alphabetized, my many names.
A blurred face
in a hallway of mirrors.

my heart left long before
my body did,
long before my legs
had the strength for escape

unloving begins
with your heart feeling cold.
I thought I should stay a while,
just to be
sure.