The Loss of Will

 

I crash in explaining I
am leaving and

you’re in some kind of frou-frou dress thing
and as you listen you
begin slipping it over your head
hands disappearing
as they float from your sleeves

I pace
and rant
and

saying nothing you pause me
tossing your hair from your face
you let it drape your
shoulder toward your breast
hanging off center

almost sad
you take my hand
stroke it against your tight face
then slowly move it down
your body
your arms wrapping around me
mouth finding my ear

my dilapidated heart leaps
to meet you and
toying with the hollow of your throat
I reach to drink from you

my will devolving

again.


Published in Poetry Super Highway, 9th place 2011 Poetry Super Highway Poetry Contest

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