Tea spills on the empty bed,
like Dracula’s cape or a devil ray
wafting over coral waves.

Now it’s a map of Australia,
the birthmark you flex
on the curve of your arm.

I carefully trace the coasts
with my finger–the continent grows
on the sea of your absence.

My boat is unmoored,
adrift; yawning unsteadily
far away from your shores.

This issue of Salamander Magazine is available here.

Content © Linda K. Cutting 2020 | Background photo: Unsplash | Site design: Minh-Anh Day

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