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.