The City High Review

Her sleeping dog’s

wheezing breaths

Mimic the rhythm

Of her tears falling.

 

She has an ocean to fill

A king sized bed all to herself.

Where is her husband?

A tear for the lost memories

Of how his body felt next to hers.

He is keeping his papers company

Instead of her.

 

Her children are asleep,

Or perhaps away.

It doesn’t matter.

They are away,

Even when present.

 

She dreads tomorrow,

Christmas morning,

her family.

Each a thread

Sewing together

A “family”.

Needles push against her heart.

It drains.

Each day she purchases a new one,

Each night it stains her pillow case

with tears.

 

They will be out of stock

Christmas morning.

She will have no heart to buy,

She will have no heart to give.

A tear platters

into her ocean.

 

She wipes her heart off her cheeks,

placing her head on its damp imprint.

She floats in her ocean,

her heart splayed around her,

And she falls asleep.