in the in-between,
he’s scared of shadows passing by the door
he curls up, I hold him like a baby,
put the heaviest blanket on him, and bring water,
which he ignores
I decide to turn my heartache off
to hear out all the reasons,
the why-I-dids
and what-fors
He says I don’t apologize
but I recited sorrys until I was hoarse
and wrote a seventeen-page letter of remorse
And after he falls asleep
long lashes like doe’s eyes
dozing into another, better life
I pick up the pieces of myself
still scattered on the floor
Prolific Rambler 