Suddenly, my friends
Have become ephemeral
As the flowers of late
March.
Our home was built
On top of each other.
The sex sounds that crept
Through the cardboard walls
Like little glimmers of light
Are muted.
We stand in different leaky
Homes that keep us
From bleeding into one another.
I have never felt so solitary
As now.
I have never missed the clumps
Of hair pasted to the shower
Stall until I saw hygiene.
The sweat of a sofa stained
By pizza sauce and beer
Never meant stability
Until I rented a clean one.
My bedroom is adorned
With white paint and my
Step grandma’s picture.
Cold Coffee Chronicles 
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