not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012


is this aloneness enough?  does it show you?  can it reveal?

standing alone in the kitchen after he has left me, my legs still extended and my hand reminiscent at my hip –
(is this bone a word he once spoke?)
i almost feel what he must feel – my presence – my actuality – my more convincing being

i put my hand to my other hip and feel the phantom sway of bone between, the join, the dip
and horizon of my actual being
- almost

but he has left the room
and definition of alone resonates like a question
as though bones are not enough

even my hips
they do not exist