Someone Else’s House— A Covert Narc Production Poem

A snapshot in time

by author via Dalle

I fall asleep waiting for you

In someone else’s house.
I fall asleep to the sound of the rain
falling on the garden I didn’t
grow this year.

Even the fat, sleek worms
are water-drunk tonight.
They panic, pack their bags and vanish
in a
cloud of rusty soil.

I do nothing all spring but cry for you.
I waste my tears on
drab, indifferent rooms.
I test them all
before I go,
auditioning a place
to fall apart.

And each night
I watch
the moon come out
through windows
behind curtains
hung in rooms that aren’t my own —
waiting for you to find me
here
in someone else’s house.