First Sleepover~ “one” becomes “two”

Rembrandt

My son

isn’t sleeping

under the same roof as me,

and I feel

a great

dis-ease.

My heart

presses against my ribs

searing my skin

attempting the impossible–

to reach him.

And I wonder,

How will I breathe

when he is gone for good?

(to college,
to his own life,
under another roof with his own children?)

Will my heart

forever

reside

outside my chest?

Or will I grow sadly accustomed

to his absence–retracting my love?

Perhaps, one learns

to live

with her heart

stretched so,

Just as once
my love was forced

to expand

When as

one

We became

two.

Gheyn (visix.com)

Kelly Salasin

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