Just the right amount of squeeze
at my hip
of a lemon
on the pasta we craft for each other
of the sponge he knows I don’t like to touch when wet.
A tongue, a croissant, a bottom smack,
exactly when we wanted one
A well-timed tease, balletically treading that tightrope line
from this now, to the next, to the next to the next please
Moments studded above our ...
Saturday 9th January 2021 3:36 pm
my partner says
I can’t write anymore poetry.
until I take out the bins
complete that assignment
(for which I’m paying thousands for the privilege)
and preferably have a shower
not out loud
but I hear it in his sighs
and the way he closes the cupboard doors
Saturday 9th January 2021 2:53 pm