Pull down the shades so that no one can see.
I'm locked in with you now - what's on TV?
I'll rip off my nails and tear out my hair
by morning you'll wonder how I bruised there.
Just you and me lying down on the couch
you can bite off my tongue, I'll still play house.
I'll pour you a drink, do every dish,
shove a spoon in my eye - I'll be your *****.
a poem May 2025