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We lived in hollow rooms

ate at the same table

watched television

from opposing sofas

while our son lay in his crib

and lies dusted our home

You propped your feet

wagged them back and forth

when I discovered a diamond

ring and a girl’s doll

had replaced my shoes

and jackets. Elegant hints

you sanctioned by closing

blinds. Nightmares

sprung from the phone

blaring music and her voice

I buried my head under a pillow

until your parents yanked it away

with their stories


— t. l. cummings

Shutterstock image.

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