You said you saw beauty in the things that died
To the objects that chose the afterlife
Like the flowers you forgot to water
As their soft petals swayed their way on the floor first
Then,
They danced their way under the rug, because you swept to check off that chore
And right then and there, in your laziness, I found humour
But I should've left, I should've ran
Knowing that I would soon bring comfort
To those petals of the lonesome flowers
Because it was with those very flowers that you swept me off my feet But it was with those very flowers that you swept me under the rug, gently

i caressed the soft and smooth
pillowcase against my calloused hands,
to the one that whimpers
from the melancholy evening

tucking the sheets
to every corner,
concealing the unquestionable blues
from the painful perennial night

accustomed to the usual morning drill,
it already seemed ordinary,
typical, stagnant,
passive

sitting on the edge of the bed
i wept, repeatedly,
realizing i shed another
insignificant tear

If I keep still
For much longer
I'll disappear

No,
I won't vanish into thin air
Like a blow of a cigarette
Or a cry of dispair

I'll stay,
Pinned to this bed
A petrified marionette
No longer attached to the strings of this net

So you ask,
What trick do you play
To fool your own self
To step out on this day
As lonely and grey
As it might come your way
Or as you may portray?

Sometimes,
A touch of oneself.
"A sheepish remedy!",
You might complain.
"You should feel shame!"

What can I say...
At least,
It gets the heart pumping
As I go out lumping
To tick the boxes on this never ending list
Hoping to find unexpected bliss

Let me come home
Help finish the chores
Send you to bed
So you can put on that bathrobe you like
And you can clear your head
While I finish up the work
As you get relaxed
I hope you smile with the smell of candle wax
Because this is my favorite part
Even if you don't feel good
I'll slip that bathrobe off and be as gentle as possible
Until you fall asleep
You're only feeling twenty percent but I need to give you my one hundred and twenty
Nothing would make me feel more confident
Knowing I pleased you
You're in a world of Boys and all I want to be is your Man
Sure, I always have a plan
But it would usually mean
Coming home to you and thinking of how good I can give it to you this time
I'm not a magician but I'd sure love to keep the magic going
Not the boringness the ones before gave you
But multiple sheets needing to be cleaned per week
And a quicker pile up of undergarments in the hamper
Your insecurities will try to damper
But let me show you
How my Eve should feel
When I'm in her sheets

Tonight I met a
little spider , it was in
my bathroom running

Aww it was so small
I was sweeping up the dust
And then I had a

moment , I thought I
shall sweep it up in dust
pan and brush right now

Then I thought o no
I cannot sweep it up to
end up in a bin

crawling about in
the dark on yesterday's food
all stinky with pong

Instead I let it
run free under a plastic
chess of werid drawers

Aww it was so small
And it was celebrating
springs yellow sunshine

But where is the sun
O it's coming soon , its just
planting its insects

Ain't spring so lovely
I'm so excited to see
a butterfly fly

They smile you know, you
just need to look closely
But you must smile back

Because if you don't
You will miss out on natures
kind gentle cuddles

grocery cart of
circadian chores
pedestrian life . . .

Tiny tawny girl next door,
Watch you scrub your kitchen floor.
Doggie down there, on all four:
I can’t wait ‘til you spill some more.

Laundry day, your fragrance drifts
Through my screen: My spirit lifts.
Subtle scents, your careless gifts,
And through each one, my keen nose sifts.

Singing, humming, filled with glee:
You wash your dishes, dutifully.
I hear you, though I cannot see,
How drippy-wet and wonderfully?

Accomp’nied by Spanish guitar,
This summer day, you wash your car.
Flamenco skirt, my jaw ajar,
On tippy-toes, you’ve stretched too far!

Then one day, from the box you came,
Bearing junk mail with my name.
I quickly turned to hide my shame.
You’d caught me staring, just the same.

My name, without lifting her head,
From that misguided missive, read.
Upset?  Not yet.  She smiled, instead,
Then took me by my arm, and said,

“I must confide, my next-door boy,
I play with you: my sweetest toy.
All parts and parcels of my ploy,
I mean to share what you enjoy.

“I scrub the floor where you can see.
I perfume all of my laundry.
I softly sing each melody,
And even dress indecently.

“…But spiders cause me grievous fright!
I have a burned-out ceiling light.
So, if you can and think you might,
Come help me with my chores, tonight.”

©2Dec2017 @DracoTalpus