She seemed sad to be leaving,
in the way a spider feels maybe sad
about leaving another empty web.
It looked so clean and white.
She had the windows covered
up with towels. I felt sticky
and afraid to touch anything.
It looked so clean. Even
her kinks in the bedroom carpet.
Her chemical traces of hair in the sink.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Boo yeah! Poetry at work (I assume) is the best kind! This is another one I want a story to!
ReplyDeleteAwww yeah! Dealio; stories and movies tomorrow!
ReplyDelete