I suppose it hasn’t been easy living with me either,
with my paper stacks and candle ends, catatonic heart and the way
I always have to be right, even
when I’m not.
Keeping you up at night
with my questions and small nags and are you sure
you still love me?
It’s been a long time since I asked last Tuesday.
Are you sure you haven’t changed your mind?
never doing the dishes when you say you will, always eating my best snacks,
in the middle of my best dreams.
Did I set an alarm? Are the house keys
Move over, I’m
falling off the bed,
we cling to each other,
claws against shoulder blades, dents
where there might have been wings had evolution treated us more kindly,
stopping the house from falling down.
I remain more dirt and grime than housewife,
more parade of insufficiency than anything
are a mess of guitar strings and half formed dreams,
but we fit.