Turning the stiff doorknob, I frown -
Helen, my wife, should be at work -
‘Everything ok in there?’ I sound.
I said this while giving the door small jerks,
Repeating myself while a seed of dread crowns.
When I called her phone, I heard a buzzing within -
At the same time, I felt a hum under my skin.
Ramming my shoulder into the door till it broke,
My love laid there, her arms etched with neat strokes.
Eyes open, but without their routine glimmer,
My hand dialed 9-11 as my breaths grew thinner.
Beginning compressions, I felt her ribs shatter,
Respiring into still lips that a day ago flattered -
And, in the end, no measures I took mattered.
Cold she remained, and would forevermore -
Emptiness now lives where I loved her once before.
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