Poem for a Divorce (draft)

Desk Drawer

Funny how you took years
to jam full, then empty
with a quick sleight of wrist:
dead batteries, envelopes
I thought to re-use
someday, a set of keys
for the shed I burned down
the day she and he
rented their first hotel room
by the hour, and this photo
edging from beneath
your wallpaper-lining.
I am smiling
at her windblown hair –
a snapshot of simplicity.
Not that I blame anyone
for her betrayal,
for blame is something
complex people can’t
admit to. It’s more that
when you accumulate the past
until you’re misshapen by it,
it’s bound to end spilled
on a floor,
and all you can do
is wait for another past
to fill you up
to breaking-point again.


(and don't worry anyone. I'm not getting divorced...)