there is romance

in hearing her

rattle the toilet roll holder

there against the wall

knowing in seconds I can get in

do my thing

get the morning going

there is romance

hearing her breathe

guinea pig sounds in the night

snuffle pig I call it

as she moves restless

between too hot sheets

there is romance

in the smells the closeness

intimacy of two rotting bodies

living together doing exactly

what nature demands

there was little romance

when I lived apart

rattling in rooms

farting in the stillness

sleeping alone

dying in solitude

gracelessly

all books read

& I can never tell you

the days counting the patterns

there in the fading wall paper

all books read

no sounds no music to break the day

nowhere to go nothing to do

but sit here stare at the dust swirling

settling there on the thin carpet

heading down to the floor

& all I could hear was the buzzing

of my ears my soul losing fire

I couldn’t think of one body

could hold my aching

would visit me here

& all those stories they tell you

your family will pick you up

what do you think is the dust

swirling down to the carpet?

they will love you for the audience

speak good words should someone hear

no letters no call made it to this door

fluttered to lie down next to me

last I looked all was empty

such as these eyes looking flat

to the patterns on the wall

& all I could do was hold on

wait for these days to change

hope one day to find another

for the wallpaper to come rearrange