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Without Love: A Building Skeleton

Updated: Oct 11, 2022

A kind lover’s love

has a way of filling the gaps

in my order of things.

It cushions the seats.

It shines a sidewise gleam

through the curtain drapes.

It is the memory in a frame,

the sound of Nina Simone,

the candle flickering.

It is the soft throw

and the cotton pillow

on the windowsill.

It is the steam on the mirror

above the bathroom sink

and the heat between

duvet and skin.

It is the book on the tussled rug

and the note at the bottom stair

and the bare feet by the kitchen fridge

buffering the echo.

It is the second cup

that keeps filling.

Without it,

my life is metal beams

and vertical columns

crosshatched with wood

and steel girders,

which cannot weather the storm.

Without it,

my life is a building skeleton.

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