Untitled (Who would divorce her lover)

Who would divorce her lover with a phone

call? You did. Like that, it's finished, done—

or is for you. I'm left with closets of

grief (you moved out your things next day). I love

you. I want to make the phone call this

time, say, pack your axe, cab uptown, kiss

me, lots. I'll run a bubble bath; we'll sing

in the tub. We worked for love, loved it. Don't sling

that out with Friday's beer cans, or file-card it

in a drawer of anecdotes: "My Last

Six Girlfriends: How a Girl Acquires a Past."

I've got "What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted"

run on a loop, unwanted leitmotif.

Lust, light, love, life all tumbled into grief.

You closed us off like a parenthesis

and left me knowing just enough to miss.

--Marilyn Hacker, 1986