You come and go easy.
Exposing your sandpaper skin, hard.
I hear your Billy Joel voice,
Muffled under the covers.
Your lyrics, the breath I breathe.
In. Out. Out. In.
You spill out of bed
Like the coffee I hold in my hand
Both of you warm my insides
Steam from the shower
Rolls into the chill air
Hot. Cold. Cold. Hot.
I wonder if you feel this vitriol in my wrist, these knocks in my mind,
As the alarm clock taps snooze, and
We oversleep. We don’t dream.
We underdress. We don’t care.
Clean becomes dirty again
Cold becomes hot.
Your music is louder
My lyrics more descriptive
Time passes, but we don’t notice
There is nowhere better to be.
Yet, somewhere else we always dream of better.
As we taste the snow in another place.
And feel a hundred suns on our faces only to wake up to sleet and
Forced hellos and goodbyes that don’t leave us aching.
Sleep still in our eyes, coffee still in our veins
I make breakfast while you make sense of all this
Rain falls inside your mind
Your thoughts sheltered by the umbrella of yesterday
My thoughts racing, sliding on ice, skidding.
Never do we come to a stop.
We intersect like the cross Bronx and Kennedy Expressway.
We become mapped somehow.
Folded up in the glove department of some old El Camino
That don’t run.