Lighter

Lighter

He cast me off like a lead necklace.
He is lighter, you can tell.
He is gentler with his children.
He can smile.
He is horny.
Things are not so bleak.
He sees the end
after crawling through serrated darkness.

I have just dumped
the last chewed corpse
out of the rowboat.
There is one oar left.
It is rusted,
iron married to iron:
oar and lock
will disintegrate
if pulled apart.

Unlike us.

I drift alone with my oar,
watching the clouds conspire
on the horizon.

I am lighter, too.