"How do I live without you?"
the pop star moans. Well, you get up
and go to work. You buy the groceries
and feed the cat and brush your teeth
and eventually you remember how
to survive on one salary and how to eat
alone. "How do I breathe without you?"
she croons. Good grief, woman, get a grip.
You were never one person, no matter what
the priest said. Love is two and now it's over.
Being alone is not death or disease.
Clean your closets and air your linen and
some day you will smile without bleeding.