baseline

the moan comes quickly
and is almost missed in the heavy muslin muffler of the night.
He wakes and blinks, and unclutches the sheets from where he has drawn
them up around himself
and he says her name once, once only, testing it on his tongue- is that what
he moaned?
slowly he rolls over on to his back to stare at the invisible ceiling
there is no answer, and he knows she's gone still now and forever and
all that's left of the thing they once were is something that flees from his conscious mind
leaving him lying there whimpering with his body clutched around the now hated and
familiar baseline of dull pain that chuckles
and pats him on the back and invites him to dream again.