it's late and the sounds of traffic have faded outMature

It’s late
and the sounds
of traffic have faded out
to rumbling whispers
every few moments.
The near-constant
murmurings and bangings
and clashings and hollerings
of neighbors are,
for now, silent.

I am alone in our bed,
all of the pillows wedged behind me,
and still I stay on my side.
I leave room for your memory
where you should be.

The indomitable truth is that
things have been hard lately;
our love has wilted during the winter,
become lazy and disinterested,
much like the both of us.

I still miss you now,
the reassurance of your skin
trembling to contain your heartbeat,
the weight of your hand on my hip,
never clenched, but keeping me
anchored within reach.

I should be asleep
or trying to sleep
but instead I’m here,
fingers pressed to the keys
wondering how soon
the dawn will break
and if it will be
before I grow weary.

The End

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