The umbra of a four letter word
By C.E. Laine
I cannot even say the word.
Its absence is utter darkness;
sucking my gravity in, and all
the light is gone, too.
I have no roots, now. Not one
thing to anchor me. I am a comet
grazing orbits of planets I can't name.
There used to me a million stars, but
they melted into that hole, with you.
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it.
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.