He holds a water-dripping beer in his hand,

stands in front of his wife and says,

“I’ll show you if you don’t know.”

On the street there are many parked cars

aligning themselves on the curb, voiceless

like dead bodies stacked in an open grave,

but on a neighbour’s lawn there are red roses.

She raises the hood, holding a tool in her hand.

“The games on,” he sips his beer and walks back inside.

She thinks, ‘your so ignorant, how can you love?

So dull to the bone, how can you give happiness?

My love-symbol is this ring which never leaves my hand

though to wash we are parted but love mourns in absence.

Two years in this repeated cycle of decay and pain

my husband, you lost your wealth, it’s recycled to another

bad investments broke your confidence and removes your patience.

I love for days of fondness, for the day to be loved passionately.

I love for us, a child forms within. I love for you to undress me again.’