“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” -Henry Ellis
Silk penguins and a queen in painted fur
reflect new elegance in
an unsung gold lamp and
a shelf coated in your blue
the dream catcher that has outlived you twice now
watches me closer than ever
honeycomb eyes perch high above the gauze
gazing down at this checked body pillow that I bought
both to deter and appease you, to attract and replace you,
it now adds quirk to my cloud.
the drawers which held your drawers now
house my knits, the delicates, and an accidental tourniquet,
the letter you left, still lodged in my bloodstream,
erodes just a bit each day, yet I still wonder how I’ll ever forget
the feeling of your hands in my hair
or your impetuous exits.
-3 am, several weeks ago, from the restless mind of an amateur poet who is probably better off sticking to that whole ballet thing.