Sun streams through white curtains
hidden beneath the white down cover
a permanent dent
without movement.
In the bed, where we slept
from where he once lay
white egyptian cotton sheets
feel like 1,000 needles
instead of softness.
The clock flashes
a red 12.
He took everything
except-
the picture
filled with alleged happiness
with the ring,
that didn’t fit.
I lay there
frozen.
I couldn’t leave,
the place,
of lost lovers.
~Elyse Sawka
Archive for the ‘My Personal Writing’ Category
Bedside
Posted in My Personal Writing on September 16, 2008 | 1 Comment »