Always

I listen but do not watch

as you prepare to leave,

the closing of a cupboard door

a cymbal clatter to my ears;

resisting every note of goodbye –

shoes over socks, sighs

and the scratching of a key in the door –

holding on to the ‘I love you’s

whispered into my collarbone.

Hands clasped tightly in my lap,

reimagining the shawl of hope

and daydream you drew tightly

about my shoulders;

fingers palms arms of fabric,

when you vowed to keep me,

always.

 

 

Image credit.

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