utensils

I was a fork
and she was a spoon.
we had
different views
of the world
and how to
go about feeding
ourselves.
but we slept
together in
the same drawer,
showered and
clean, separated
only slightly by
a plastic wall,
a tidy little room.
we lay there
and shared
the stories
of what plates
we'd been to,
what food and mouths
we'd seen.
the times we were
dropped and licked
by the dog
before being
retrieved,
but it was never
meant to be,
especially
with the knives
so close by,
sharper and more
clever than we'd
ever be,
always listening
and plotting
against us.