Sunday, June 25, 2023

The Next Day

 

The Next Day

Your side of the bed was empty this morning.

Last night you weren't there for me to kiss you,

and tell you again what I had hoped you knew,

in a ritual that for decades was habit forming.

I knew I should get going, work out at the gym,

but it seemed pointless without a morning tryst

as this sweaty lover telling you'd been missed

and his deep love was not just a passing whim.

Yesterday, you kept that deadly appointment;

feared, delayed and avoided, but now met.

I knew, of course, I'd have to give you up. Yet,

didn't do ritual prayers or anoint with Ointment.

I could not be your Priest, only a failed lover

who could not stop those angels to hover.

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