Apartment (A Poem)
--
No one would know
how many times we
made love on the new
camel-colored couches
we had worked so hard
to pay for.
They would never see
the mornings spent on
the kitchen floor,
dreaming into one another’s
eyes and bodies
taking the time in which
the biscuits and gravy
cooked, to spread
our love across the counters.
It would seem unreasonable
that our bed was our home
the singular place we
found hardest to escape
hiding under the sheets
snuggling away our day
whispering of the love
we had found.
The bathroom shared our
wanderlust for change
the reflection of us two
brushing our teeth, then my back
propped gently against the mirror
inhaling your body
craving the most it could receive.
Who had time for real life?
We never did.