Museless

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Museless


That bitch has ghosted me again,

             is likely frolicking about with some 

fedoraed ignoramus who has suddenly 

discovered how to say the shifting

thing. Was it something I had said?

Was it my inability to say what begged

for saying after all these many years? 

Look, I know I used to disappear


at times and leave you wondering 

exactly where I went, but when 

I say I’m different now I mean

it! Come back—I'll be here waiting

for you, my ear pressed up against

the door you slammed. I can just

make out a mumbling of sorts, 

but now it's garbled, inarticulate.

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