how it begins

[Lizzie]

how it begins

a worm in the stomach,
imagined as sickness of green love,
a future descending too fast

you lag a moment behind and then

a hanging reply or missed
appointment and then—

are you a leaver, my love? 

must be nice
to be the winnower

must be grand
to govern the hammer

when the turbulence arrives
you'll be on a plane outbound—
the sound of your leaving
only simulated speech
from a call gone straight to voicemail

here's how it begins—

a worm in the stomach imagined
as the turbulence of green love
of a future descending too fast

he lags a moment behind and then

an unreturned message or a missed
appointment and then—

are you a leaver my love? must be nice
to be the decider

must be nice
to be the winnower

must be grand
to be god and father

when the bewilderment arrives
he'll be on a plane outbound
and the only sound his departure
will ever create is the simulated speech
of a call gone straight to voicemail