Another Monday, in the World
by @d-simpson
"Do you miss me?" She asked.
And I, trying my best not to lie,
said how I felt, in reply:
"I'm enjoying my solitude."
We'd been apart scarcely a day,
after being inseparable for months.
"Well, enjoy your solitude."
Immediately I understood the
influence of an honest word.
Ah, that's the last sentence I heard
before I was left to contemplate
the soft silence on the other side
of an empty receiver.
I slept well the first few nights,
expecting to find her back in my
arms by the end of the week.
Our paths never crossed again,
and her phone's been disconnected
(she probably forgot to pay).
She left a few things:
pants and underwear on the floor;
pens (which won't be used any more);
a toothbrush on the corner of the sink;
and an old picture of her's
which hangs hollow on the wall.
Now thoughts whirl around like
a dervish of misgivings:
if only I lied through my teeth
for the duration of a call.