Phoebe Wilcox has published two books, a poetry chapbook, Recidivist (Lilly Press, April 2010), and her first novel, Angels Carry the Sun (Lilly Press, Sept 2010). Her stories and poems have appeared in many literary magazines and have been nominated twice for the Pushcart prize and once for the Rhysling award. Angels Carry the Sun was nominated for both for a Pushcart Prize and the PEN/Faulkner Award. www.phoebewilcox.com.

Estate Sale

His name is the breath of my life,
His body the blood of my lust.
But there is nothing now between us.
It's as if he never
Actually
Called at all.
I am a husk.
I am the feeling
Of having been hung up on
After a voice
That only spoke a single word
Left me empty
And yearning.
There is nothing left
To do with this one-sided conversation
But have that one last
Good cry
That these things
Always require
And then settle on into the stillness
Of ever after,
Heart shuttered up,
Everything sealed away
Or sold perhaps
To the highest bidder
Whoever
Is most insistent
Or just forgets to put his hand down.