This life punctuated with loneliness...

I thought if I married

the loneliness punctuating my life

would evaporate,

would burn off like darkness in the morning.

I thought I would breathe

clear and still

and I would forget what it felt like--

not to be loved.

Now nights find me waking,

listening

to the slow even rhythm of your breathing,

the heavy weight of your chest rising,

the soundless exhale of its resolution.

I don't know where you dream.

The familiarity of you wakes me in the mornings--

the gait of your footfall,

the scratch of your razor,

the tune hummed while dressing,

your humming toothbrush--

And I wonder about being loved;

what is feels like not to be loved,

and while I'm thinking,

while my eyes are still closed,

you leave without saying goodbye.

--mb