The Unclothed

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"Mourning in the Morning"

I came for the morning doves
and stayed for the conversations over coffee. 

A heaviness came over me as soon as the birds scattered 
and you told me you were leaving. 

The wind got silent. Trees stopped talking, as if they knew.
And for a split second…everything seemed to just be still.

Coffee is now half gone. A numb tongue didn’t feel the hot liquid flood in
and fill the broken cracks of my heart. 

Birds are long gone now. They left with the sound of bulky footsteps 
and heavy words.

I came for the coffee
and ended up staying for the mourning. 

-R. Short