A house. Four walls and a roof.
The California king bed can sleep much more than two
Spaces between them, in bed and otherwise.
Sometimes their bodies touch,
they don't know how
Senseless love-making follows,
they don't know why
Eyes staring at the ceiling as he takes her in.
Her gaze piercing through the roof -
she wonders what the night sky whispers to the ocean
wonders how the soft waves are kissing the moonlit sand tonight.
The customary declaration of love
followed by turning of backs
falling asleep on the edge of the California king.
A house. His closet & her closet.
Sometimes when he is gone, she smells his shirts, fingers his tie
Tries to find a hint of herself, may be a whiff from the time gone by.
She can't.
Sometimes she weeps.
But mostly she is relieved.
Some evenings when he is back, she acts.
Fakes a smile and brings him tea.
And triumphs when he can't tell.
A house. Two children. A boy and a girl.
Every day she packs their lunch, drives them to school.
To football games and piano lessons.
Their perfect little family.
Looking for little rewards in her children's eyes.
Sometimes she imagines.
She believes she is alive.
That the clicking of the hands of the clock -
Is her life.
But mostly she knows -
She is a corpse.
The California king bed can sleep much more than two
Spaces between them, in bed and otherwise.
Sometimes their bodies touch,
they don't know how
Senseless love-making follows,
they don't know why
Eyes staring at the ceiling as he takes her in.
Her gaze piercing through the roof -
she wonders what the night sky whispers to the ocean
wonders how the soft waves are kissing the moonlit sand tonight.
The customary declaration of love
followed by turning of backs
falling asleep on the edge of the California king.
A house. His closet & her closet.
Sometimes when he is gone, she smells his shirts, fingers his tie
Tries to find a hint of herself, may be a whiff from the time gone by.
She can't.
Sometimes she weeps.
But mostly she is relieved.
Some evenings when he is back, she acts.
Fakes a smile and brings him tea.
And triumphs when he can't tell.
A house. Two children. A boy and a girl.
Every day she packs their lunch, drives them to school.
To football games and piano lessons.
Their perfect little family.
Looking for little rewards in her children's eyes.
Sometimes she imagines.
She believes she is alive.
That the clicking of the hands of the clock -
Is her life.
But mostly she knows -
She is a corpse.
