My world is still b/c no one but her is in it mostly
code up pipe dreams & resume stuffers; fester
read & boil tea occasionally
eat decadent meals until my froggy belly makes me
hate myself. - Once I snapped, having turtled
two deep inside into an outside full of
backhanded compliments, unwanted sexuals,
1000 I’s split up into us & theyz-ies
or poinsettas stand in for windows,
mums, more beautiful from a distance, now crowd
my cube (as a favor apparently) b/c my life
looks empty to them. But she is in it,
as am I.
Tea is nearby (was&will be); lavender chamomile w/
honey brewed by she sleeps between my legs so sweetly
but we (her&I) fight dirty: physically, speaking,
everything really; its not so bad, not her, the stillness.
Between holidays, field trips, weekends there are
only neighbors, which like walls squeeze you closer to
the feeling that you could be fishing for more, & to the
grisly reality that you would rather not.
&so, my world is still what it is, &I
would rather not…but I do. Not b/c of me,
& certainly not for you, sweetie :).