you are starting to smell like
your old self again.
perhaps your asylum clothes
did not retain that waxy, welcome home-ness
that possessed your drawers of yesteryear,
but i am remembering who you were
without all that theory behind it.


maybe i am annoyed because you don't
reach for me in the night and take my pants off
slow while i'm trying to sleep.
you just lay there,
persevering with the ceiling
and i could be any where
but the important thing, really
is that i'm beside you
and it doesn't matter.


perhaps i prefer you
annihilated by your own insight so much
that your body is crippled in question mark
that only i can unbend.


are we siblings or lovers?
i can only tell when we're fighting
or undressed.


i want to mean more to you
without being everything.
i want to make your eyes water
without making you weep.

03/14/2012

Posted on 03/15/2012
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Singer