I keep her coins wrapped in tissue on the sofa
As if I spend them I will lose her
Even more
She is precious
More than any one
The rain falls
Sweet as apple pie upon my shoulder
Soft
Fulfilling
Not like the grind of his crutches
Which drill into my head
Into my throat
Into my home
Except there is no home
There will never be home
No place to sleep
No place to be safe
I forget
Try to forget
Them
keys coins door locks wedge sink bowl cotton burn fume blood
nose pain gone
need to buy need to buy to stop
paper pen
List upon list of nothing
I remember everything
But nothing says it all
Nothing
The rain falls and marks my coat
I wake up
To nothing
Days counted not spent
Hardly matters numbers days
It is not tomorrow yet
Yesterday still tastes bitter
The bad apple in the pie
I push it down
Stop time
drink eat wash
On the sofa she is with me
Hand in hand we shine the coins
We will spend our pennies wisely
Know what treasure is
And what is really lost.
