I Know from My Bed

Sometimes I feel
like a sad sack-
a worn out old man
with clown facial wrinkles.
I know when I reflect,
stare out my window
at the snow falling
from my bed,
my back to yours,
reflecting on my pain-
ignoring yours-
I isolate your love,
lose your touch
to another-
forgetting,
it is our bed,
not mine,
that I lie in.

-1999-

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Ad Hominem Art and Literature Review. 2010.