After Love by Maxine Kumin
Good morning, heartache. I am going to work, dammit. I won’t think about this. Billie Holiday on repeat. Maybe she will weep for me.
After Love
Maxine KuminAfterward, the compromise.
Bodies resume their boundaries.These legs, for instance, mine.
Your arms take you back in.Spoons of our fingers, lips
admit their ownership.The bedding yawns, a door
blows aimlessly ajarand overhead, a plane
singsongs coming down.Nothing is changed, except
there was a moment whenthe wolf, the mongering wolf
who stands outside the selflay lightly down, and slept.