Wednesday, November 26, 2014

not surprised

the essence
of her
has slipped out
of the house.
slid
like a soft
vapor
under the crack
of the door,
the window
ajar
unclosed.
out the vents,
the chimney.
she's gone.
not thing remains.
not a shoe,
or stocking,
no brush
or comb.
no lipstick
left on the sink.
no note
to say farewell.
nothing
surprises you
anymore.

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