My Rolling Void
The lady whispered to leave you my void
so I waited patiently till you had your fill,
till your senses became inflamed,
invective cursed my hands and name.
I slipped out early by the sliding door
and just before I closed it, I rolled
my void into the room. I saw it grow
by bounds; it clung to the walls
Saturated the floor. You had your way
but not your will; the void ate it away.
It broadcasted my absence daily until
you fled and wandered streets alone.
#### Poet’s Notes ####
This is a “vintage” poem, written c. 2012.
Post delayed due to July 4th holiday.
Publication courtesy of River and South: