Late Nights | early mornings

19 2 0
                                    

Late Nights | early mornings

Johanna M. Vining

he made me marmalade

marrow on toast

made me fetch his wine, his lidded kiss

eventually claustrophobic, sewn delicacies in the sleeve

a young thirty-six or an old thirty-one

one, two, three steps then gone

graphite and granite

world spinning or perception askew

late to the appointment, still late waiting

making sense of this now

exactly the same at seventeen,

now with more wine, more mobility

one eye open while behind the curtain:

bye, bye, birdie – one year four –

railway whistle     I can hear your future calling

footsteps falling and a memory of seized words

never anyone like me for you, never anyone like you for me

truth in this

we both deserved better

Navigating the DivorceWhere stories live. Discover now