Her:

time to go?

says who though?

just time to go.

but there is laundry left unfolded.
but the bed can’t make itself.
but the smell of last night’s grief isn’t
done with settling down.

tomorrow.

what if that never comes?

at least the shoes are put away.
at least the tea’s been drunk.
at least the disorder of sheets outlined
the sleeping shape of one.

is there no one else to wait for?

no
one.
so it’s time to go.

where to?

yesterday.

Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

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