You replace the phone
on its cradle.
In one suddenly torn second —
an instant
pulled open violently —
the filling has fallen out
and accustomed comfort
has gone flat, crumpled
like a bag on the floor.
Shut down.
It’s all right to sob
and wish for things
to be different.
Pull together
a pile of soft blankets
and sleep.
It’s all you can do
until morning —
that, and shut off the phone.
No need for another ripping blow
tonight.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Dark Matter 
Leave a comment