I was attached

a man married a woman.

 

I was once attached

She died
and I did not care

on a bus stop, later I was seated
I fell asleep passing her gravestone

I remember her feet the most
She kicked me in the face when we slept

I was cuckolded, she led me astray

often at the park, we used to went
picnic violence in the middle of darkness
chasing our bodies in the moonlight

long ago, misconstrued
my lawyer told me she loved me
left me a sum of money

passing
our old house
creeps me out

the vague tremors of our breaths

sunken deep in the cracks of wooden hollow floors

I put my face print on a window
reading the words from a nightingale

40 years since our wedding

always absent, despondent
gone from the home
not enough, not enough

these bones don’t speak to me

----it’s been a year since I misunderstood our love

Author's Note

read slowly with a little emotion. open to any advice. i originally had it longer