The Morning After

You do not call.

I don't even know
if I expect you to
You were cold when I was there
right next to you
why should you warm up
when I'm a couple of miles away?

For there you lay
turned away
cuddling the cat
soothing the dog
your back
a huge red wall

uninviting

insensitive

unloving.

It resisted me
shut me out.
You know how a back can be.

And so
I tossed all night
on twisted sheets
the dog at my feet
so I couldn't stretch out
sad, uncomfortable
thoughts skittering around
like mice
or white moths
flapping tired wings.

I awoke at four
and waited for six
when I knew your alarm
would go off.

Resisted your offer to "sleep in"
asked to be sent to the station
so I could get back to my own bed
and relax.

But now,
icy sheets piled on me
I can't sleep
I can't get out of bed
I just lie here
in my misery
feeling ashamed
that I did it again.