poetry

parallel parting

She said it might put
things in perspective
if they spent some time
apart. Overspent,
her paramour
could only assent.

And so they parted,
prospectively; or
perhaps never met,
their affair purely
a parallax error,
to be flung aside
in a single reflex.
Had each party only
made love to themself,
using the other
as a proxy?
So her lover suspected,
going home in a taxi.

She changed the sheets
then the locks,
proof of negativity
if not of perfidy.
On such grounds
her ex admirer
deleted her contact.
Each saw the other
a dwindling figure
in their rear mirror,
their divided existence
more admirable
at greater distance.

Copyright © Jon Harley 2017