Day 30: Bedroom

If that’s you, in a different bedroom,
In a city with different night-sounds,
If that’s you, glaring sightless until the
Ceiling creates the footbridge,
If that’s you I hear, heels clicking on stone,
Or wood, or iron, or slipping over muddy turf,
If that’s you, tasting the drop of
Whiskey left in my glass, licking the sharp feather
Of desire on my shoulder,
If that’s you, with snow on your lip
And word-pearls in your pocket,
Then I’ll let it be;
My cat will leap over your reckless ghost,
Believing he was tricked,
And land soundless on the bedroom floor.

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