The gravity is strong in this new house;
everything I touch is pulled to the floor.
In this room, especially, the gravity is strong.

The thump of the Marlboro pack
against his palm means
he will smoke another cigarette
while waiting for the lamb,
slowly roasting in the broiler.

He looks at my sandals at the foot of the bed
and knows I will soon be
only a shadow in his history.

I walk again through the hanging orange and red beads
separating the one room from the kitchen.

The clinking of the beads makes him raise his head.
All the beads fall to the floor; he knows
he will be pulled down, too, in time.

If I wander around this dark empty room,
screaming mournfully,
my neighbors will never know why.

The gravity is strong in this room.

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Toni La Ree Bennett’s verbal and visual work has appeared in Cimarron Review, Gold Man Review, Gravel, Poemmemoirstory, Puerto del Sol, Hawaii Pacific Review, december, and Memoir with a poetry chapbook to be published by Finishing Line Press in February 2019. She is also a photographer and lives with a flock of feisty finches. Photography and writing samples can be seen at tonibennett.com.