It Came Between Us
by Nadia Wolnisty
We’ll put it in a corner. It is
quiet, and it smells of pillow. It does
not even require food. Its meals lie
resting in bowls,
although it does have gums enough.
We checked when we set it
on cardboard. No matter.
No matter, also, that the air beats
around it like the flutter of bats’ wings.
No matter that now our lips touch only the tips
of our tapping fingers instead of each others’.
We’ll just put it in the corner. It is quiet,
but so are stains and scars, and
when we walk past it, we feel as though
we’ve swallowed pieces of moon.