Last Lover

You leave me gifts
at my front door:
leaves dancing in the wind,
sudden snow storms,
lightning flashes.

You watch me when
I watch the dogs
scrambling out the door.
You smell the coffee
brewing, trickling in my cup.

You laugh at me for
locking doors
and windows.
There is no way
to keep you out.

Someday you’ll come to get me
no matter if
I run and hide.
You are my final lover,
you are the kiss of death.

published in Dark Entries and Entropy

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