Thursday, February 18, 2016

separate rooms

we don't talk now.
we pass each other
in the hall
on the way to the kitchen
or the bathroom.
we're polite
without kindness.
our feet are cold
on leaving.
we stay in
separate rooms.
the quiet meals alone,
the shared paper
left folded on
the table for when one
who hasn't read it
gets home.

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