The Songs of All We Made

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

on a tuesday in the evening I

curled into the

mindless humming of some

colorful game show

going in and out of the

flashes of white-blue light

that signaled all around our

bedroom

 

nights are just

lamplight and the

turning of the washing

machine climbing through

these walls

 

stuck on repeat i am

constantly hunting little treasures

dish rags

t-shirts

a pair of your old

shoes

just searching for

sound

 

i thumb through

aged magazines adorned

with your coffee rings

i fold corners and

leave them open

 

the bed is never

made

i need that sense of

movement

 

outside the grass

is so close to

hiding me from

view

and I am content

with fading back into the

songs of

all we made

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10 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized, Writing

10 responses to “The Songs of All We Made

  1. Very emotive.
    Nicely done,
    Slowly melancholy
    Without spoiling the intimacy
    Through detail
    Or gild.

    Masterful.

  2. “Melancholy”? Maybe I don’t know what that really means; this felt entirely comfortable…at home…at peace…the lullaby of the familiar singing your soul to rest. Nicely done!

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