Ice Cubes

She's gone when I get home.
No note,
But I know she's not returning
Because she told me so
And there's a large emptiness in the closet.
I pour myself a drink
Sit on the couch
Listen to the air conditioner's whine
Try to imagine what the next half hour will be like
And the next one.
I think about the bed
Its expansiveness
Afraid it will swallow me.
The quiet that strikes me,
How hollow it is,
A black hole
Sucking time and mind.
I fill my glass and am alarmed when the ice cubes slam against each other
Like we used to
This will be a long night,

© Poem Fix 2012
Photo: Benobeno

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