I hate the way
you turn away


When your face
mirrors rain


When your body
shudders into each day
the slender winding S of your back
leaning into a tomorrow without me

I'm letting
sparrows perch
on my outstretched arms
to carry me home

If I come back
will you let me leave me with you?


No

perhaps the question should just hang between us


a bent wire hanger
naked without the benefit of
a dress to cover it.