Droplets on the window screen are caught, each in its trap—
a wire cage suspending them inches from my lap.
Your silkscreen propped against the wall, only half completed.
My heart, once full, now emptying, each moment more depleted.
You’ve vanished with your waxes. Our nuptial pledge seems over.
Your true nature reassumed, once more you are a rover.
This half-empty silkscreen your only good-bye letter,
my father’s warnings fill my mind. I should have known you better.