On my first day without you

On my first day without you,

I’ll wash my face with ice water. 

Grab my coloring chalks and paint

a woman dressed in red coming out

of church.  She’ll be staring into a blue sky

with a blank face as the exit walls tremble.

 

Her womb swollen, and you speechless

and unhappy beside her looking for me,

eyes begging for absolution.

But here I am to remind you,

as the earth quakes beneath my feet,

absence makes the mind forget.