Your face looks different now
Cast under the shade of time
Instead of under the curve of my hands,
You can see it plainly
That your life is a pinprick
Or a quarter for a slot machine,
That we’ve been breathing in fumes
All this time and never noticed.
The house shifts on its loose plates
You lick your lips in the kitchen
Chapped, forgotten things
We don’t know what to do with the stove
When to add the salt, or how much
But here we are, making a memory
Here we are, making a home
Here we are, thrashing like two fish,
Throwing ourselves onto the deck
Wondering where our bodies went.
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