Watermarks

My Lover holds me
in the middle of the night

like he knows there are ghosts 
hanging in my closet
and he's waiting to hear the doorknob turn.

But Lover, 

I have never been good
at folding dirty laundry,
or neatly hanging the past 
like a heretic 

So, I just wear it like a necklace 
of baby teeth, 

I hum it like the music box 
filled with the family secrets

And we just live like that,
with it like,

the dying plants on the windowsill,
the stale wine in the refrigerator,
the not-quite right hum of the radiator

Lover,

there is nothing that will snatch you
in the middle of the night.

There are no lurking skeletons
to dance with.

There is just the melancholy creak
of my own bones in the morning, 

and the beer bottle watermarks 
of a far away life
on our coffee table. 

Reviews

[Planet x]

I am already addicted to your writing

It touched the very basic feelings in life and you serve it with the most direct but indirect way , you tell the story with limited number of words , you hide more than you tell and still... you let me understand it. Just because, you describe real life

[emipoemi]

This is eerie. I might even say mesmerizing, too, at certain points. Simply wonderful! Well freaking done!

[SleeplessVolcano]

Powerful images, a raw honesty and say-it-like-it-is chutzpah makes this a great write :)