Her red life leaking out 

On a dusky, sullen Sunday 

Slumped hanging off her sofa 

Me heaving in the door frame 

❧

Time moving like jellyfish 

Couldn’t pass the threshold 

Her face, eyes on the inside 

Grim slackening, teeth on the outside 

And on the floor 

❧

I heard the yawning pipes in the wall 

Windows raining condensation 

Jesus cross crooked on the door 

Swan song masked radio buzzing 

❧

Walls alternating red and blue 

Tiny dog yipping on her lap 

White fur wet with bloody love 

Skin was blotched, mottled lilac 

❧

Jars of the dead on the shelf 

Phantom hand felt on my shoulder 

I was breathy, he gasped 

“Take care of yourself” 

Didn’t get home ‘til dawn 

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash