I loathe
the thought of us
sharing the sanctity of this room
so, I summoned skunks
to breed babies on my bed.
I beg for sanity,
maintain a holy distance
and keep what we truly are,
two heads exploring space
between here and there.
sadly, I measure
a meaningless, verbless life
from past to lacquered tomorrow,
where the dark blessings of love
aren't just metaphorical.
my thoughts circular and crooked
for I prefer to see mud.
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Author Notes
Separation is a special curse among married couples. My musings on separation, certainly not biographical. This a free verse, just letting the words flow. Thanks Google images for the picture.
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