Grab a seat, don’t take your coat off
in your own house, I’m not staying,
only until it clears up; if I go out now
I will sink into the ground, You say
as you sink into a chair - a creaking noise,
to remind you.
You survive on the short sugar rush
of a Proustian coffee; the past is a gentle
unfaithful lover
I’ll call them. Put on your nicest voice,
sing yourself to them.
But you push in so many words;
they can’’t understand.
Fall asleep, don’t take off your coat
in your own bed, I’m not sleeping,
so when they ring, my phone or door,
I can open up. I can go home, You say,
but the blinds have been down so long
you can’t see when it stops raining
It hurts to see you try.