“Desire After She Died” by Michael Carter

During the first month
an O of grief formed
in the center of my chest –

a stain on a coffee table.
Tonight at work carrying
two wine glasses one-handed

to the kitchen I felt the weight
of his testicles in my cupped palm.
How we burnished

that stain, rubbed it,
worked it deep into the grain.

——

Michael Carter is a poet and psychotherapist living in the Berkshires. He has poems forthcoming from Black Rabbit and Columbia Review. Previously, poems of his have appeared in such journals as Boulevard, Ploughshares and Spoon River Poetry Review, among many others. He lives with his hounds and knits and swims.