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Free Entry 1, Week 14

This Meant She’s Gone

I woke up in a twin bed,
morning after,
knowing I didn’t get laid:
not enough room.
I barely have enough room
to keep a stack of books beside
not that they would love me anyway.
I’ve lost the habit of waking up
mid-night and rolling over for sex.
A habit lost right after becoming habit.
Give me a month and a half
and I break it, break you away from me,
and leaving nothing to roll over.
The warmth on the other foot of bed
is nuzzling Georgia sun peak,
like a pet I don’t want curled beside me.

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