after the apocalypse

listening to leonard cohen 'coming back to you.'






the room is cold. when you were here 
when you were here
well, you were here


my bed was made so neatly 
sweet slim fingers beseeching 
all the wrinkles from the sheets


now i'm slumped. on the bare 
mattress and the shawl does keep
the naked body warm


only the shawl to keep
the naked body warm. the aftermath
of the apocalypse 


amounts to twenty six ounces of salt
twelve ounces of honey and i don't really 
care what they say,


the box was between pandora's legs
the box was between pandora's legs
all along


and i don't really
care what you think, 
it's my box 


it's my box 
and what you thought of me 
when you loved me less


than most of the time
was probably 
true.