the TV's on in the room next door,
announcing some annoying talk show,
my sunday noises go backwards,
the night - a short drive with the radio on,
a cup of coffee and your breath at dusk,
in the afternoon, kids were playing loud,
and my steps followed yours in the playground,
the young one running and laughing,
he stiffled the noise in my head,
at noon, the water boiling,
and the sound of the lightsaber,
shooting ceaselessly,
time moving ceaselessly,
and the tears that ceased,
unwilling to leave,
the bed,
in the morning,
made no noise,
although we were both on it,
no noises or kisses,
just wondering lovers,
with wandering hands,
the deafening silence that stands,
from last night,
from the moment the music was off,
just when I covered and shut my eyes,
myself,
and you told me to relax,
the next day,
as we embraced,
and got up,
to put the water to boil again.
(I like
the sound
of the water
boiling,
telling
it's time
to sit down
by your
side)
