Thursday, August 2, 2012

In denial

In the unreal night
Of the death-dazed house
I clutch at the faintest sounds;
I steal from room to room
Hoping she has somehow come home;
Is she now merely hiding
Like a child
Behind the door
Or under the bed
Just waiting to be found?
Maybe I have forgotten
She was again staying over
With her ailing father,
Tomorrow she might walk in
Through the door
Like the other time,
With sleepless eyes
Yet eager to take
The house off our hands ---
How I wish I can go to sleep
Wake up and find her
Next to me, still asleep.

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