Do not go 

gentle or quiet or clean.

Abandon your socks in the dryer, bed sheets still warm,

and be sure to slam the door at least twice on your way out

so I know it’s not a drill, not this time around

or ever again.

Give me the cue to break and don’t scrub your breakfast plate.

Leave sticky breadcrumbs on the kitchen counter

for me to sponge away later, dribbles of hardened maple syrup

for me to scrape as part of the brutal ceremony 

of setting you free.

Leave the toothpaste tube uncapped, the radio on,

hell, even spill your aftershave on purpose.

There is a kinder method to leaving the woman who loves you

and it is by withdrawing articulately,

intentionally, poetically,

leaving no space for silence to take your place at the table,

for heartache to fold her laundry, for misery to marry her

because all it takes is time.

If you should go

let her know.

Leave the light on.

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