Unmade Bed
by Melanie Knypstra


Over.

I wait

            for an assurance.

Wait

            for hand on cheek.

Wait 

            for hand on back.

Blinds glow yellow with morning.

Light comes,

            he rises

                        and my heart falls

                                    into this unmade bed.

He rises

            to wipe himself clean

                        of the ardor

                                    he felt last night.