Every day is like today, six decades long
In a few years I will be yours completely
Have you not been mine already?
I have, but I will be. Wait until our skin, with needle and thread is tied up tightly as an umbrella and your hair and my hair are arms reaching for the ends of the

It was always going to end like this, you marrying me and me marrying you.
Every thing you say is a conversation with you, every single thing
And now a conversation with you, every nothing and everything said is to or for or at or with or around you.
Maybe he is an angel and every angel comes with a fold up lawn chair
And cigarettes.
And these spider legs inside my face are an itch scratching an itch waiting for you to wake up next to me and to grip the edge of a mattress putting your feet down to walk down our redbrick hallway to the place where our bodies grow
Every day is like today. Today is six decades long.

And babies wanting for food, a baby who did. My heart is broken for bellies smaller than mine.