On Nights Without Sex

The air has had enough
of being eaten
by the fire, so it collects
rushes off the light
into a sky
of hungry stars

In this moment, in this new dark
I feel that I am the furthest away I can be
without being inside her
This dark is a pale woman’s face
which I have pulled too close to see

I relight my torch
Loneliness fits another
copy of itself
down, on top of me

3 comments

  1. Jeremy Nathan Marks

    This is great, Britt. You had me riveted from the opening stanza. Those opening lines:

    The air has had enough
    of being eaten
    by the fire, so it collects,
    rushes off the light
    into a sky
    of hungry stars.

    That is something I wish I had written. And I like the symmetry to it -how it begins and ends with eating and hunger.

    Excellent poem.

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