In bed surrounded by humid darkness,
Hand-carved hearts above and below.
Your snoring echoes across the hall,
Halls vapor clings to your breath.
My tired belly full of hunted venison.
My head full of word problems hashed out in our garage,
Amidst aroma of curled pine shavings littering cement floor.
Our garage where you stash loaded water guns,
Clean over-unders we bring to Sheffield.
Where our scuba gear is stored
Anticipating Key West and night dives.
Our garage where your Z3 will be,
Waiting for a Winchester NA meeting.
That second-gear drive with my spirit so burdened from
Unsaid apologies for adolescent rebellion.
Missing our dances in the living room.
You complaining I was trying to lead.
Our living room where you fall asleep on the couch,
The end of our movie unwatched.
My head next to your breast pocket.
Scent of cigarette smoke buried in the fibers.
Cigarettes later smoked together hovering over the stove in our kitchen.
A bonding at what is normally not allowed.
Our kitchen where we will talk