endgame
the candle goes out
with a little smoke flourish
nudging me awake
I must have fallen
asleep, I mumble, my mouth
still full of slumber
I sort through our limbs
deciding which are mine, yours
shove feet into shoes
I should go, I say
swaying among the bottles
rolled drunk on the floor
rubbing your eye and
temple with your ring finger
mmm, you agree
you return to sleep
slipping sleek as a selkie
back into the sea
fathoms multiply
between us as you plunge down
to the ocean floor
the click of the latch
as I leave closes more than
a door behind me
CP
Andrew McCallum lives in southern Scotland. His work has appeared in a number of magazines and anthologies, and has received several awards.
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