‘Why?’ — you wonder.
Why do I seek retribution
for every particle of air
you allowed between
our hands?
We’re beggars in our own universe, damn it!
Left in shambles by
the trill we sought aimlessly,
immersed in this game we played —
year after year.
A bland magazine is keeping
your attention this mid-morning
while I sit across from you,
unsettled by the picture I took—
your eyes cast downwards,
your nude fingernails
grabbing the glossy paper
for dear life.
You just ate my last piece of hope
for breakfast, my love.
Thank you for reading!
Mini-poem part of the Midday poetry series. Check out the ‘015’ section from my ‘Midday Inspiration’ board over on Pinterest if you want to see what inspired these words.
Take care.
