My Rolling Void by Lyon Kennedy  

The lady whispered to leave you my void
so I waited patiently till you had your fill,
till your senses became inflamed,
invective cursed my hands and name.
I slipped out early by the sliding door
and just before I closed it, I rolled
my void into the room. I saw it grow
by bounds; it clung to the walls
Saturated the floor. You had your way
but not your will; the void devoured it.
It broadcasted my absence daily until
you fled and wandered streets quietly.Lyon Kennedy currently works at NYU in East Greenwich Village, NYC. Poetry publishing credits includeThe Electric Acorn (Dublin Writers Workshop) and The Susquehanna Review.

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