Latest Post

Just Another Room

the unmade bed;

the scent of lavender candles

that cannot mask

the scent of your cologne

and the day that you always seem to have;

that creeping chill of November,

with its tender fingers

tracing the contours of my  nape

and the back of my legs;

the cruel light of the full moon,

invading this sacred space

and illuminating what is there

and what is not…

 

What is there?

Larry the Lizard, up on the ceiling;

the painting that Paul whipped up

the day before your birthday,

swirls of colour — red, white, and yellow –

that somehow reminded you of me

when I was still happy;

and the book I gave you

that I’m sure you never read.

 

What’s not there?

Two suitcases and all your clothes

and some of your shoes;

your toothbrush; the post its on the walls,

filled with the thoughts in your head

that you promised one day

will go into your book;

and our photo in front

of the Sydney Opera House

that day in July, 2007.

 

What made this place so sacred

is gone and now.

It’s just another room with a view

of the mountains in the day

and the city lights at night,

just another room

with a toilet and a bath,

and closet space for two

and enough book shelves

for book lovers

who no longer love

each other.

 

Wanggo on Twitter

Archives

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 417 other followers