Careless Arts

You called it escapist love
said if we transformed ourselves we could
transform the world wanted
to get so far so fast
hurried incessantly
I always trembled
treaded in the deep-end of dread
that you’d teach me the careless art of leaving
dreamt of finding
your empty clothes still warm
on the door step your body gone gone
not even the scent of you
lingering on the borrowed
hoodie in my hamper how it struck me
hard and caustic
that in the last stand showdown of egos
when one begged and the other
burned and the pillars of us came buckling down
it was I who left –
no answers
no scent

E. E. Scott is a poet living in Brunswick, Maine. She previously curated the Fox House Reading Series in Kalamazoo, MI and edited the Delta House Anthology. She presently works and writes at Boost House. You can find her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/itseescott.