Disturbing Linens

by Theresa Donnelly 

Footprints mark the pile-

the rug cannot lie.

You walk about while

I sleep erratically

across anxious sheets.

The closet doors swing

from their gallows frame.

I laboured long

to cut on the bias

the perfect life.

You left me. 

                                        Cold

fingers tap the spinal column.

      

Admonition from the kettle

as it reached a Sunday boil.

Thigh exposed suggestively

on the cellar stair.

                              

                                          You   

                            

                                          fell  

                                     

                                          from   

                             

                                          grace. 

Bare concrete snaps bones-

stomps out possibilities.

You are back-

I feel it.

Days are for dreaming.

Nights expose the truth.

Bio

Theresa Donnelly is an Irish/Canadian poet who spends her time between Waterville, Co. Kerry and Brooklin, Ontario. Her work has been widley published on both sides of the Atlantic. She is the author of two poetry books, Moon Witch and Other Scary Poems and Recurrence of Blue. Growing up in Dublin, the city of Dracula’s Bram Stoker definitely influenced and fed her appetite for the macabre www.theresadonnelly.com