Still Life

The thing is—
he could
he can
he does
cut me open
sometimes
just by leaving
me alone
when the space
between us
begs to be
closed
reduced
punctuated
by a word
or a promise
of nearness
but there is
so much
silence
emptiness
doubt
filling me up
I don’t know
if there will be
room for him
when he—
if—
he decides
to come.

 

 

 

 

DeMaris
4-18-17

“Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog” by Caspar David Friedrich, 1818

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