I should have done this before:
I should have let the light in-
its eggshell blue.
I should have let the new morning in.
I should have seen the branches
of the old paperbark tree
shifting, should have seen the borrowed flush
of the sky cast over the sea.
I have been closeted with my aloneness
like a bride on her honeymoon.
I have been adjusting
to the smell of aloneness on me,
to the strange, intrusive stickiness
of our embrace.
Aloneness thought he had me, at last,
all to himself.
Aloneness was greedy.
He used me up.