Sadie's Song

She knows he’s leaving tomorrow.

She begins making plans. Buys a shell-pink corset of watered silk. The finest oolong.

She stays awake baking cream puffs and madeleines. Draws plans for a knot garden, a pergola. Fashions a moondial out of the sad arc of her arms and trims the dead heads off cabbage roses. Takes a sledgehammer to the walls and carves out a priest’s hole. Buries herself in.

At dawn, her tongue flicking hot over dry lips, tasting of sweat and sherry. Powdered sugar. A hand gently covering her heart, learning the shape of the emptiness there.