the weeping woman

woman window.jpeg

morning’s light finds me,
sooner or later.
sooner or later it comes,
barging in through cracked windows
or gently trickling
through lazily drawn curtains.
before, it was a relief
like the bumpy landing of a plane
after a sweaty, nauseous flight.
but now, it arrives like an unwelcome visitor,
a circle drawn in red
on the calendar,
quickening the minutes into seconds
as the deadline approaches.
for i know,
when those dusty streams
glitter onto the sheets,
the soft rise and fall
of your chest will break,
like a wave on the shore,
and you will leave me.


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