THE END OF A MARRIAGE

is totally silent, eerie in its zero.

Not even the clunk of paralleled possessions

dropping into cardboard boxes or the satisfying

slamming of doors, one after another, can slap

a period on chaos. It’s just one syrupy moon-eyed

gaze, taking in his overlapped belly, the dangerous

mole dotting her left shoulder, the blue veins

like roads to death behind his knees. It’s that watery

stare with no stop, the frenzied gulping of line,

curve, voice, all the stark unbended was of them.

Yes, we flinched against the losing, even our venom

was distinctly hued. Everyone kept asking, begging

detail, but all there was was the utter nothing, just

our eyes locked on our eyes, traversing that ragged

territory once more for the record, finally dropping

abruptly from the edge of my body, the edge of his.

It was a threadbare connect meant to end tragically,

one that was broken when we blinked and he turned

away and I turned away, our eyes fused open.

Then we began our walk toward separate sounds.