"3,000 Days" [by Erika Moya]

3,000 Days

After three thousand days we stopped loving. 
It left quietly, before the first blue in the sky,
while one could still see stars and long shadows. 
It walked barefoot across the moonlit floor admiring its feet, 
holding a pair of shoes in one hand and an old toothbrush in the other.
It tried to look back but the thought of salt was too great.  When it
       reached the door,
it shut its eyes going back to minutes prior, with you in bed and your
       quiet breath.
It tried to memorize your lashes and the creases in your lips, each
       a mini-wrinkle.
It wanted more time but knew that more time was not an option.
It did not close the door entirely for fear of making noise, so
       that forever
after we stopped loving, everything was framed in the sullen violet
of almost morning.  Almost something that was not enough.

-- Erika Moya

Comments

[Christine Chalhoub]

Great images. Love the bit about salt. It left me with the familiar feeling of a pit in my stomach...