(Comfort

has come.)

You've had sweet fingers of internet

love, pushing down your pants,

twiddling around, leaving you gasping.

She's had muscles of all-too-material

shoulder bruising her away..

You've had flowery coos, all

sugary molasses, and imaged

perfection held up to your view.

She's had silence abounding,

echoing the precocious silence ahead..

You've had swifting plans

of golden rejoicings, ruby cheeks

and wings of monetary sighs.

She's had peculiar recessions

of being unstable, and falling rapidly..

He's seen her alarm claxon his

given ultimatum, incredulous, hurt, 

eyes wide in pity; his heart deadens.

She's edited out, evermore envisioned,

bereavement exchanged..

He’s uncorked and grasping,

helpless, pulling up his pants,

rebounded to nothing.

(Comfort

has passed.)

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen

© Copyright 3/9/24