Deficient

The air is light.
Sun rays escape the window.
She plays with them
--seeing what the light omits.
In an early morning.
In lilac sheets,
she greets him.
Finding

Emptiness

Devoid.

Hostility.

It reeks of him.
The air--erratically
hesitant.
 The sunrays flickers in the corner of her eye.

Again, wholesome solitude.
Stretching unconsciously.
An easeful moan escapes.
Silence whispering.

The phone screams.

It’s him.

No please.

The message reads: I know you miss me.

Ignore it.
Look at the light.
But the only light seen

is the one from the phone screen.

Inescapable.

Immediately preceding,
fingers frantic on the still phone screen
Almost without thinking
Sent.  “You’re right, I miss you.”

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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