Evenings, sick of acuity
and its cost,
I pull at my hearing aids
until what entered
each ear slides slowly out
drawing sound
along with it, deafness a relief
as when I’ve had
all I can take of pleasure
and push my lover
from my body. The world,
it’s true, is less
absent the part of him
that fills and empties me
at once, ecstasy an overwhelm
like life’s din
played by the devices in my head,
insistent music
I finally writhe away from.
first published in Connotation Press