Strangeination’s Weblog

Apartment B

Third floor

I know where to find you.

The key

Under the mat.

Inside the pale of morning,

The window sile– the cat.

Asleep upon the couch

With hands behind your head

–It’s better while you rest you know–

I wonder why?-you said.

You lie and I see no fault

You speak and I have a list.

But now in the stillness,

You’re covered in the mist.

I begin with the bacon,

The eggs–not too hard.

Out the window-summertime,

Below-a rich man’s yard.

I can hear you start to stir

Grinding your teeth- and awake-

I look over and you smile,

I hold out your plate.

Sprawled out, you stretch, and rise

Coming over to the bar.

A kiss -good morning- so sweet,

Afternoon not too far.

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