Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Lonely From The Inside (Day 49)

The body knows 
lonely from the inside, 
bone deep:
ice-cold toes in the midst
of summer, 
or that odd gnawing 
hunger that comes on a few 
hours after Thanksgiving 
dinner. In the morning,
the body knows
it as a hollowness,
an echoing empty house
in which someone was 
supposed to have been 
living. On the outer rim
of sleep, the body knows
lonely so deep and all
consuming that, instead 
of reeling away in fright,
the two embrace, 
the feeling pulled up
and around like 
a comforter 
on a winter night. 


(c) 2017, by Hannah Six