The loves that don’t make it to ‘I love you’ ;
The stillborns
The bastards
The weaklings
The easy to forget
The forever lingering "what if?".
half
i go about my day
half full
half pretty
half happy
i say: ‘hello it’s good to see you ’
words heavy
empty
dreary
i avoid windows on rainy days
when a reflection of you beside me
is most vivid.
the girl, the woman
she says: “no, it’s all in the past, i’m happy now”
as she wraps her waist in the stiff fitted coat that uprights her
holding the girl the woman and the years
in the silent doing of a single button.
