the unsheltered shuffle nameless
a spider twitches a web in the corner of your bedroom
memories run like rabbits with pocket watches
for all of you, the rain in your bathrobes

a face of a loved one
wakes you in the darkness
while you fetch breakfast from the store
you mistake trash for sleeping people

the treadmill perfection popup
a feline purr bites your naked shoulder
sweeping mud as the neighbors curse their children
for all of you, the rain in your bathrobes

a voice of a loved one
rescinds you in one move
while you reset the board
you mistake a pawn for the queen

I’m afraid to let you in
without a contract binding agreement
I want you to stop moving my furniture
I know that makes me afraid of change
just like the abusers you used to date

I’m afraid to let you go
without a dinner party explanation
but still I had to buy so much furniture
when you left suddenly, you shower cried
that playlist made me see
I can’t be here anymore

I’m afraid to be a man
without an orgasm before another orgasm
but still I love to buy antique furniture
my matriarchs duct-taped my boyhood to my leg
my preacher destroyed a family for another one
my first kiss was a boy in a batman costume
my last relationship was more math than magic
enough about me though