For seven minutes each day
I let myself be unhappy

I curse and cuss and cry
and deep-sea dive
until I run out of breath
and come back to my surface

Four minutes of the day I spend
wondering if I'm awake

I blink and burrow and brood and
pretend I'm in a sitcom
until familiar things
float back to my surface

And I resume kissing your head and mouth
because I'm sure that they're there
and that they're
yours and you