Grocery Receipt

This house is stark space empty.

Josh and Tim danced out through the wind cracks;
Ryan and Alex tried,
but left,
what seems like giga years ago.

I've only blinked twice since then;
and only to the tick of the stars yawning at
the moon outside my window.

It's weird,
but their imbalance is
holding the earth up tonight.

Here, I've been drawing circles for hours,
lost without corners;

I've been trying to crumble the lines,
accrete it into something clever so
I can get lost in the sphere it will become,
beside the corner of bed.

Perhaps there I will feel
the home I've been longing,
my rip in space-time that's beyond a
sifting parallax of closure.

-Nathaniel T. Hughes, March 2008

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