Floating Through the Day
By Christopher Munroe
You shiver, then whimper, naked and drained.
You assure me you’ll only need a minute.
It takes more like an hour.
I’d like you to stay, but you need to be at work in the
morning, so do I, and I totally respect your decision to sleep in your own bed.
You thieve my pajama pants and TShirt, swimming in their
size, and I walk you to your car, kissing you as you climb in, watching you
drive away.
On the way back, it’s my turn to shiver.
My weekend is drawing to a close.
Where has the time gone?
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