Katie Hampton

A man, relegated to a box in which he must not cry

Must not need

Must not have

a tender part

a soft belly

gentle hands

or sobs in his throat

tells me

I hate men

as if

he doesn’t

I walked lonely until I walked with you

and then

for so long

I walked lonely

beside you

too

I don’t begrudge your happiness

your white sands

but I still can’t feel glad anymore

when you tell me your good news

because my heart eroded all these years

waiting for our turn in the light

with nights alone

my husband with

his empty bottles

his lost hours

his secret heart

our cold bed

the baby cried

my breasts leaked milk

I swallowed up sobs and blinked

thousands of tears

into a muslin blanket

whispering prayers that this

should be a winter

and my lover would come

back to me again

in spring

to their bodies

to their names

to go to school

without

being shot to death