Overlocking Moments

 

The sigh; the moan,

Of something long gone

A raped memory

A brick-laid thought

 

My shoes are in

Another’s house

Follow them there

But do it unseen

 

My toes are cold

I’m too tall for the bed

He’s too tall

For the bed

 

We’re both just too

Fucking tall

For the bed

 

I think, last week,

Someone said something about

Acceptance, compromise,

Cooperation

 

The sheets smell of disdain

Or maybe, long-gone lubricant

The kitchen, of someone else’s soap

That we used to wash our hands

 

The tables are draped in red cloth

Each square, blatant disagreement

I would just remove the bloody cloth

But glass is always worse

Especially when it breaks

 

The toilet is always flushed;

The seats sanitized

We’ve turned conventional

Hell, but we haven’t

 

Someone else can do the dishes

It’s their food we ate anyway

But then, the dishwater swims with

Our food and spit and shit

 

I would take

Every moment, spin it

On his broken sewing machine,

And overlock it so it

Wouldn’t break

 

But it already has