This poem was written for a writing competition with the theme “Coming full circle”.
I washed my sheets for her. All day, my space was dominated by the cyclic pounding of the washer dryer. I don't think she noticed, or didn’t care. Her raven locks tickled my ear as she smirked over me Looming as an owl portends its prey’s demise. An omen.. But how could I not fall for those cloying eyes, That gentle indifference, elbows leaning towards me, Those dimples, delightful. I ate them up as she emptied me out Onto sheets I would wash again tomorrow. I couldn’t help but see her as a child to be nurtured and protected. And while this posture is woefully out of style by modern academic standards of sexual propriety, it also contains an arrogance which left me blind to when I am this time the lamb. Another night. Another two meals Doordashed on my dime. (Not that it hurts) Another ouroboros of entrails, Spasming in the light like some hideous blobfish Drawn from ocean depths by a trawler’s net. Another morning entangled, Legs locked in legs, And then an hour of patiently waiting for her bus and my peace, And then another release. But she left me. I feel violated, A burglar arrested something from my home But I can’t seem to tell what’s missing. I simply am alone again Nothing lost and nothing gained. The cycle begins anew. I will stay this weekend Curled up in my couch Watching anime and Coming Full Circle