She is meant to be
home but she stays out. She takes a couple of phone calls, puts on a happy
face. Later he calls. She is on her way home but still takes her time going via
the tofu store. When she arrives things feel cold and frosty.
"Where've you been?" he asks
With you, without you.
I sit up alone and think about it. My watch says that it is 1am. I
cant go to bed. You are sprawled out in there, long gone from my world. I
wonder if you go to a place where you are happy, if it is full of unicorns and
rainbows. I doubt it. I think you are just aggressively
getting out of town. You wreck this violence to yourself. It has been days. I
come home and find you comatose, still, flat. The only way I know you are alive
is the gentle undulations of your chest. I cannot love this person. We are
either in or out.
