Last night was an example of
how it’s still there.
He didn’t feel like eating
so I blessed a few slices and put
some pizza aside for him.
But he didn’t want me to leave,
so we watched March of the Penguins
on the couch in the old spooning position.
I was falling asleep but I could feel
that he was awake.
His hand searching to pull down
my sweatpants and recreate what
we used to be good at.
And it was really good.
But I’m not falling over drunkenly
in love, I just feel proudly smug
knowing I still got it.

I’m spending my night drinking
hot chocolate and rewatching
Gilmore Girls: Seasons.
I’ve sat at the kitchen table to smoke
some **** while the house is dark
and quiet.
Everyone else is asleep because
they all have jobs to go to when
they wake up.
I am unemployed.