Idle Signs

In the morning you said,
I don’t want you to go.

Outside the fallen leaves were folding—
an aerobic conclusion—you said stay

and broke open the blankets to stand in the chill
you said I have a lot of things to do today.

Your eye pressed against my shoulder
was a sharp command, a nod true as tongue.

I crawled to my car door and waited for
some symptom of regret, a weakness.

Instead, you lifted one hand in the air without a wave
or a warning, without anything for me
to come back to.

Olivia Rae Horn is a secret writer and poet. She works as a business analyst and lives with her partner in Austin, TX.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Idle Signs

  1. Thank you for the like :]

    Interesting the blog of yours

    Kind wayfarer

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