When our love has become
when we lie in bed lying to one
another about the weekend –
neither of us wanting to harm
I look in your eyes after you’ve
gone to take a shower, and they
are neither yours nor mine.
Some part of me – the lightning
perhaps, quick to know where
to go, that part wants the
summer place and the dog.
That fast I don’t care about the
rest of it as you drop the soap.
“Are you all right?” I call to you –
out of habit, out of time,
from the sidelines.