the last night for JKW

another memory from the archives

Leonard Durso

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

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