Entropy

At dawn there is the silence

of my vacant bed.

Muted sighs remember mid-length nails

digging into the small

of your back.

I used to wrap myself

in white linen. (I used to be just as

clean).

But this was when we used

to fit

unforced.

Now the displaced realities

impress only incompatibility.

You are impossible to ignore.

I could hear you from across the room

even if you had whispered your "about that"
insincerities.