wimpy lonely

i don't want to forget this loneliness;
this bone absence of sound
i want to remember this anxiety
of piecing together the seconds of a day
making enough racket in the kitchen
to overwhelm the fact that
no voice has yet been raised.








yesterday i pulled the hair out of the drain
and it was only one color.
when we lived together,
my twiggy net of gopher hair
always had a corona of
corn husk silk, now
that was a union.