Crumbs

I woke this morning alone

without my lover.

In her place I found the crumbs

of what I lost.

She is gone to see her family

in the desert.

I am left to pay the price

for what it cost.

Love can be a crime

when its entangled

in the barter of a lifetime

for one night.

It’s a trade we make

to keep ourselves in business,

a contract with the shadow

and the light.

Sometimes we choose to leave

our bed uncovered.

Sometimes we choose to leave it

not at all.

And other times we choose

to take the journey

hoping someone finds the crumbs

that we let fall.

©p. donovan