You and your husband sleep in separate rooms
it’s a sticky mess
syrup on the kitchen floor
you and your husband sleep in separate rooms
but through the wall he hears you whispering to your ‘nobody. just a friend’
he’s nobody. just a friend.
just someone to hold hands with when you’re lonely
and have a secret of
someone to smile about when you’ve nothing to smile about
your husband is dying of jealousy. he shows his disdain by squeezing the toothpaste tubes from the top
he’s never been a confrontational man
you don’t understand the way he loves
and he doesn’t understand the way you beg for attention
you eat dinner quietly, across from each other
poor man had a talent for feeling everything at full capacity
when he was happy, he was exuberant.
when he was angry, he was furious.
when he was sad, he was dismal.
when he was tired, exhausted.
and when he was in love, he was all of these things in the most complete way.
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