Sometimes I think my love is resting
on the couch from the sidewalk
picking 'part polyester nesting

an undulating thrum manifesting
I'll tell you at the kitchen table
that I've been nowhere lately

In the park across the street
is where we skip your track meet
my legs damp from where we sat

Now in the cool centre of December
with no personal effects to speak of
you tell me a story I'll misremember

Is there power still, an ember
your boss holds your check again
and I call him up and quit for you

Close my eyes for a second
your nails like little almonds
where they touch my cheek

you lift away and I fall asleep.