V  P  R

Contemporary Poetry and Poetics




I work now from midnight to five. Hours
he never occupied, hours
not screaming of his absence.

If the sun were early, if it were night
only inside me, I would rise and move to his empty room.
I would fold myself small enough to fit
into his first and only bed.

Leslie would lean into the doorframe. Leslie
would cry but love me enough to find an outstretched arm,
an I know, I know. And she does.
She is the only one who knows.

We would put each other to sleep.
We would lie in bed, the feeling of cold metal on our tongues,
a habitual, boy shaped bend between our bodies.


© by Sean David Ross


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