Tonight's Poet Corner: Alone Time

Alone Time
by Belinda Roddie

I will be exactly where you left me yesterday:

Drinking lukewarm tea with the bag still drowning
in the ceramic abyss;

Reading the same newspaper until the heat
of my own fingers melts away the urgency;

Ignoring the tinned laughter of sitcom reruns
on a television set older than I am, and it
has seen some serious shit, my dude;

Continually rotating my left ankle like it's
an awkward cylindrical planet rotating on an axis
that technically violates the laws of physics;

Wondering why I can't stop rotating my left ankle
like it'll fall off if I stop - just drop, like wet clay;

Contemplate mortality and heavily question
why I still have Bibles in my house because
they provide absolutely no comfort;

And finally, checking my phone every ten
or so minutes to see if you read my messages,
or called me back, or already wrote me a
eulogy, or simply disappeared.

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