DeThrust

Oh subtle
Oh sudden!
closeness of withdraw
backwards slide over
hands and veins
liquid spills
until no squeeze
left to hold
you
uneager at thought
of such wet
open door softly
banging in hot breeze
don't need to go
only so many streets
to walk
only so many houses
with yellow lights
dark shapes caught in nets
still stale of curtains
a voice carries over
static on the line
static on the line

receivers drop
weep into my hands