at night my insomnia follows me like a ghost
and i make a sudden decision on my own: i am going to leave you.
when i begin to pack the clock on the nighstand reads
1:03 am; your head is pressed into the pillow and your mouth
is slightly open, long legs tangled up in the sheets.
when i open the door your shirts are there,
hanging with mine
one of the sleeves on your buttondown hooked gently
onto my sweater. but i take everything off the hangers
and fold it into a cardboard box,
knowing full well i am folding myself up too.
when i finish, the nightstand clock reads 1:34 am
and i take one last look at you lying there.
feathers of hair spread over your skull, the hot hollow
of your neck like a moon crater. i am struggling
with this decision, weighing all options in my mind,
when i notice the curve of your arm like a question mark
which i answer
by shutting the door behind me.