I almost said I’m sorry by Nilsa Mariano

I almost said I’m sorry

wide and empty
the can lid stays open
after you take the trash out
the new bag is muddy green
to hide the smears we live
lottery tickets in your hand
failed faded paper thin
we lock eyes as you back up
crunching the numbers
over your head
mechanically you announce
we lost
as you jump in the air
aiming the paper toward the can
the arc of your throw
the days of our lives
the lid of the can falls
in a slow motion groan
you are gone before it clicks
my words hit the door
in a tedious echo

*

Nilsa Mariano is a graduate of Binghamton University with a Masters in Comparative Literature. At heart she is a Brooklyn girl. Nilsa was published in, Muleskinner, Five Minute, Wildgreens and Stone Canoe. She is proud of being published in the inaugural edition of Chicken Soup for the Latino Soul. Nilsa is owned by a spoiled pug.