Late Offering (poem)




Late Offering



there was nothing to say

we were lying in bed


together no longer able

to touch for fear of


opening wounds

the dark hiding us both


like wounded animals

I still loved you, or


thought I did & then

you began telling me


how you weren’t interested

in coming around to see me


anymore & that you weren’t

sure if you loved me, or


if you had ever loved me

casually inserting a sharp


blade through the gaps

in my ribs & so I began


playing all my Suzanne Vega

albums one by one


knowing how much

you hated her


Joanne Fisher



This poem was first published in Spin and previously appeared on this blog in January 2018.



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Β©2019 Joanne Fisher


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