Disconnected Directory
by clippedtrust
· 03/12/2025
Published 03/12/2025 17:01
Mother's desk, years.
The book, stiff, a ghost.
'98, yellowed,
holding what I lost most.
My finger on a name,
ink faded. A street
number, dead.
No pulse, no beat.
Just paper weight.
A former life,
bound tight in the spine.
A quiet knife.