argue later, i ask her,
while
brushing my teeth,
staring into the mirror,
wondering
where that new line came from
on my forehead.
no,
she says, standing in the door
way
in her pink terry cloth
robe,
the belt tightened
around her waist.
no, she says again,
flipping the light switch on
and off
to get my attention.
i want to fight now, not later.
if we wait
until later
i won't even remember
what i'm mad
about.
so let's go at it now.
i think we're out of floss,
i tell her.
do you have any in your
purse?
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