Rectangular
sheets grow colder
as my foot crosses
the long edge of the Mason-Dixon line
that invisibly divided us
into separate spaces,
parallel lines
that tangentially
we forgot how to cross
through the oblong window
your empty side of the bed-
a sliver of crescent moon
wraps around
the darkened space
hollowed out inside
Do you think the moon
is lonely
for the part
it no longer sees?
Considering many shapes
of heartbreak –
circular thoughts
of 4am, of love
of loss,
of you
Apr 24, 2019 @ 13:36:03
I felt that …