for secrets, through
the window the day
becomes weak, we
kiss each other good-
bye. The love is lonely
even as we are pushed
together like the threads
of a carpet, the stitches
of a cut. As he hides,
I seek for hope. I close
my eyes tightly, I'm tired
of counting. One, two,
one hundred. The sun
casts a shadow upon
you, I can easily spot
and ignore. Humoring
you and your cleverness
I walk by and leave
the stealthy air. Allowing
you to wonder about
your skills as the night
creeps into the house.
Deidre Grotbo
