A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
| Current Issue | Contents Page - This Issue | Editorial Staff | About This Journal |
| Submissions | Acceptance Criteria | Haibun Definitions | Articles | Archives | Search |

June 2006, vol 2 no 2

[return to Contents Page]

Julie Beveridge


Home Is Where The Heartache Is

Somebody else has been in these sheets. My lover in the shower washing away this morning's sins. I kick my legs, pulling at the blankets to re-affirm my body's grooves in the mattress. The scent of her hair strong on my pillow, no matter how often I beat it with my fists. I let my eyes close and choose to forget. Choose to rise in the morning, make his breakfast before I leave for work-take him the paper and a coffee; wake his children and prepare them for their day. And when I arrive home I will kiss his face and beg him to lie to me about his day. He crawls in beside me, curls up tight, kisses between my shoulders and tells me how happy I make him.

in the darkness
my wedding vows