Her cellophane
kisses.

the ones that
would lose
interest,

somewhere
between
"I love you,"
and "I love
you too."

the fights
for the
extra
pillow ,

that started
around
midnight
and then
continued

twelve
thirteen
rounds
into night.

rarely

ending
in a no
decision.

always
someone
had to
win and
somebody
had to
lose.

which in
hindsight
really said
so much
more about
us than
less.
.
the *****
dishes
rhythmically
floating
top side
in the
kitchen sink.

*******
pots and
pans,

lying around
like battle
ships stationed
in some
Pacific
harbor.

waiting
patiently
for the
Japanese
zeros to
attack.

and then
one day

they did.

odd to
think about
what we
leave
behind.

and sadly
what was
never
there

to begin
with.