Empty Bed

by Deborah Finkelstein

Fingers crawl across grimy sheets
The discovery of empty space
Mattress springs like vertebrae on a dead lizard

Eyes open to an empty bed
Shared only with tiny bugs and
Sprinkled with desert dust

Footsteps downstairs
Trying to sound quiet
You realize you need her

Sharing a bed each night like a lover
Tonight she has vanished
Your life like the Kuwait Desert

The sneaking sounds of shoes on stairs
All alone, you panic
What has happened to your machine gun