Speak

I dug through the clutter of:
my unfinished paintings, dried pens,
sunflower seed shells, and books,
watching you make plans, smiling,
laughing on the phone, you were
with me but I was alone,
"Gill's doing well" you shouted in my
direction, I tried to make a sound
of approval but it was muffled by
the dense darkness of my corner.