how bad can it be?

a blotchy grey gloom sifts through
noon skies that are supposed
to be something else,
not this.

I am aware of dappled shadows
swirling like delicate lacework  
in the shade of the tree, where
I stand.

you have been extracted, removed
from me in measured steps and I
stay back, hold on, hold down
feelings that refuse to hold still.

and soon I become the silhouette
in the sky, in the dancing shade of
the tree, in my own dark eyes –
darkened, everywhere you used to be.

© SoulReserve 2020

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