the last night for JKW

another memory from the archives

Leonard Durso

curled up
on your side of the bed
nothing exposed
walls
so high I cannot scale
trenches
so deep I cannot cross
there is nothing to say
that hasn’t been said
and much left unanswered
it will be cold here
tomorrow
but not as cold as
tonight
something died
though long before I noticed
and I will be left alone
to bury it
in the morning

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