Each night with you, I loosened
its drawstring, considered your complaints,
and added to its bulk. Denied myself

those attitudes. Denied you the satisfaction
of knowing I tried to change. Now, I find myself
reaching in to reconsider those bright spheres

of embryonic behavior. Finding your
thread sewn along the seam. No wonder
I forget my purpose between the bedroom

and the kitchen. No wonder I fall asleep
so quickly. No wonder I was sixteen yesterday
and twenty-five today. No doubt

I’ll soon be morphine-blunted. Peaceful.
The shadow is a carnivore. Even married,
we’d still be less than one whole person.