Conversation Postscript

after you had gone,
after all the words were said that bound
our lives together for the space
of understanding,
I found
my room a larger place.

the wall
windowed to a view
upon anothers need, and all
the silence filled with sound
of others living, the new
(read-me, read-me) books seemed old
as yesterday, and my door somehow
would not tightly close.

so cataclysmic just your word?
how should it be
my friend, if every day
i listened with the heart
to what until you came
i merely overheard?

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