Absent Man “It must be terrible to wake up alone in the middle of the night…” (Ludmila Vanková) Unloved. She carries two children in her heart, one beneath it. Dark hues of the night convulse outside her bedroom window. She knows what it’s like to wake up in tousled sheets, untouched by a man. Her body, growing and aching with a new life, sweats on its own terms. She prefers it that way. Each night gives birth to a day; the man drinks through it. His child moves inside her while he moves away. His words no longer caress her dreams. How terrible to wake up next to his drunken heart! ©Renata McCormish