Dec 4
The night has
settled.
Unsettled questions
swim in the dark,
crashing against
the walls.
The silver moon
spills softly on
the white sheets.
Empty corners
bleed into the heavy
air.
Unspoken secrets
decay in the carton.
Silence has come
with absolution.
The violent grief
of the lonely hour
shall abandon the
sails too.
And adrift would
be my belongings,
swirling into the
dark currents,
crashing against
the doors and the
windows,
knocking on my
dreams, my thoughts,
and more.
And where shall I
be,
when the dust
has settled,
and the shipwreck
has become part of
her abandonment?
Every piece of
her being
sowed in the
dust of this cunning
planet.
No one to see
for what she has
now become,
no one to remember
her name,
or mine.
