Sunday, March 17, 2019

sins of omission

I don't tell him about the play:
the play I love most.
You dog, Evan would say.
You dog.
I don't tell him about the painting—
I don't email him back on Sunday.
I skip answering the question.
I circle around your empty chair,
wagging my tail, whimpering,
just one small spaniel
casting her vote for your return.

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