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She sat in the corner of my room

Smoking a cigarette and

Draining

A glass of whiskey and

Draining

Me.

 

 

She was the kind of woman

That let her ashes fall and she

Swept

Them under my rug but I was never

Swept

Away.

 

 

She stayed and she stepped

And the ashes dug into the

Ground

Creating a circle of black

Like a sacrifice made to what could not

Be.

 

I couldn’t make her leave

Even when she didn’t want to

Stay

And when I couldn’t bear to

Stay

Away.

 

She sang songs too loudly

And wanted applause

But all I could muster

Were halfway smirks

And halfhearted shards of

Me.

 

“We were happy once,”

She said then she flicked and

Fire

Fell and she kicked the

Fire

Away.

 

“The flame is hot and the

Light is bright,”

I muttered.

“Don’t flatter yourself

You aren’t the man you used to

Be.”

 

Wisps of smoke rose between

Her fingers and she

Puffed

And then coughed and then

Puffed

Away.

 

“The furnace you lit is

Beginning to roll

Like a lake of flames

Licking the shore

And I fear the fire will splash onto

Me.”

 

She looked at me with

A tone of voice that was

Silent

Like a deaf man wanting to push

Silent

Away.

 

“I thought you were speaking of

Love but now I see

I am being engulfed

Because I misunderstood.

You should probably leave me

Be.”

 

I watched as she sat in the corner

Smoking like a cigarette and

Draining

Drops of whiskey to stop the fire, her life

Draining

Away.

 

When I knew she was gone

The echoes of my heartbeat

Revived

And vibrated against the walls and

Revived

Me.

 

copyright Jill Szoo Wilson

 

(Photo Credit: German painter Heiko Müllerhttp://heikomüller.de)

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