Saturday, June 5, 2010

Elle 2

Today she has refused to wash plate, knife, glass.
She has removed spare pillows I use as cushions
on cold plastic chairs for warmth, stacked them
with the four in front of bedhead.

My pyjamas, which I leave neatly rolled
were set aside next to pillows yesterday;
today they are exiled at  the bed's foot.
I decide these messages are intentional.

I imagine her knotting my plastic rubbish bag
disdainfully, ignoring spilled jewellery with
self-conscious savoir-faire. I will not leave
a note requesting more sugar. I wash my dishes.

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