Non-Erotic PoetryParting sorrowWeekday evening drawing to a close
comedies over
board games tucked away for next time
he stands to leave
and she feels...something...
"do you have to?"
"well, you know...it's time..."
his eyes say...something...
something she doesn't understand.
She has no paradigm to connect
the silence pouring from him
with the emptiness she doesn't see
growing inside her
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English
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