NEW POETIC ORDER

He stood , smoking his last parliament cigarette, blissfully unaware. 

Unaware. 

We go home and it feels familiar but uncomfortable. I close the door behind me. 

Uncomfortable.

I’m awake in bed. He’s asleep beside me. I’m unable to get any rest for a few hours but eventually dose off. 

Unable. 

For some years it continues. Until one day something changes. Changes that cannot be unchanged. A stone that has sunken to the bottom of the pond. 

Unchanged. Until. 

*sigh* I sigh , close my thoughts, and drink a warm mug of tea.

I’m aware of my feelings

I’m comfortable with him

I’m able to stay or go

I change my mind often

But . Until ..