186. 3/4

I. A Library

It is the 2
of us:
china in the cabinet,
glasses on the side
playing house
in a borrowed
home.

You carefully
place olives, blue cheese,
and sundried tomatoes
on the
pasta sauce-slewn
bread.

We are eating.
You are talking of your
faithless
ex,
pink T-
shirt.

And I in a pink
tank-top.

Borrowed:

The room,
the plates,
the shirt,

and me.

On loan,
copy 2,
special archives.
Books do not
feel.

II. A Window

It is dark
and you
take the blanket off the
curtain rod

mesh separates us
and the
humming night

you want to see me,
you keep saying

but the light is too
harsh
we both
know

we kiss
in darkness

I tremble as I
melt in your assured
embraces,
helpless

as you reassure
and whisper
and pause to see
if I am
all
right

this is
care, I
think

this is
love

your lips on mine,
praising me.
I am so
desired in this moment,
so beautiful, so
divine.

A demigod has
discovered me
and thirsts for
me.
What must
I
be?

III. An Omelette

Chestnut lashes,
chestnut eyes,
chestnut locks:

I see you know
in the early
light

you see me see
you,
smile, and
return to sleep

you know your
power

we split an
omelette
four
ways

one for her,
one for you,
and
one for
me.

The fourth we
split between us,
like an
afterthought.

I sit next to
you on your
couch.
Our legs graze.

Your attention is already
on your
phone.

We have no
service

Aug 6, 2017
Halifax, NS