Other people's lives we leave
No telephones, no televisions here and our own
car parked for a week, our own problems
with us, although I do not envy the young
As if home for awhile we keep busy.
We don't drink although we do
talk too much, and where to put this and that
in somebody else's summer cabin?
Ourselves we put to bed for a nap.
Reading, we fall asleep and snore,
no longer sex objects, alas, and yet
"A week?" they asked incredulous.
So we could have gone distracted amongst the tourists.
So we could have stayed at home with the cats.
older than we want to be until
with eyes wide open and mouths, too,
darkness surrounds us and
"Where the fuck is the switch?"
It takes awhile for we may know each other
It does take awhile. It always takes awhile
unless, of course, what you want isn't what
we think we've had all these years and will have
until one of us dies. What then?
Which is why we are here as if we were
as we were