what's mine is not yours

to cover

the round black dining

room

table,

modern

against the white

chairs,

she placed a pink frilly

cloth,

something from

the age

of Woodstock.

nearly a quilt 

for a love child

still

wandering in the rain,

lost.

it went against

everything

i believed in.

she knew that,

but did it anyway.

it took time,

before i took it off.

it burned beautifully 

in the bonfire

out back.