GFT Press  A Philanthropic Literary And Art Press  

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Jennifer Lothrigel

 

Ominous Hollow

 

Last night

the sound of unspoken language

felt like a delayed catastrophe.


I wanted abstract things from you

like rootedness

wholeness,

wanted them to come into my body

like a northern magnet

crashing into its south.


The full moon

cast our shadows across the bedroom floor,

illuminating the empty space

while you slept through my tiny psychic death.


I tried to cleave the unspoken 

from the abandon,

drown it in letting go,

summon the complicated mystery

of our intersecting hearts.


I held my flesh together,

let our fate be an unsolved riddle, 

fell asleep with the ominous hollow

that had snuck in from my childhood

beneath my pillow.