Drifting Away

Boomboom, boomboom, boomboom, . . .

In my room, my one and only room

Our speaker is just for myself 

It's my one and only gift 

slow yet effective 

The boom boom

Languid and special 

We pause as each boom goes by 

Sniffing to smell the air for more powerful booms 

Touching the booms like we were in contact with them 

Savoring our apartness 

Our closeness suddenly drifting away 

This poem wants to be short but unique 

The moment wants to be long but plain 

The shiny hardwood floor, the empty wall, the clothes piled up in a heap, the bed we share for years together 

All this wants to be forever, the music, us, everything 

Particularly the embrace of one another we once had 

The tearing open of a present I will never forget 

The near tearing when it is over and there is nothing like this on the horizon, nothing at all 

The empty bottle sitting there, alone, apart, broken. 

Altay Huseyin