We won’t leave this bed. We’ll grow bored here. Drink microwaved coffee. Talk politics. Let’s recycle for fun. We’ll vacuum the front rug too many times. Let’s fight and make up. Let’s fight and not make up and stay angry for 50 years. Let’s over-apologize for it. Be moody towards apologies. You can help me fix myself.
Let’s Elmer’s each other to the mattress and try to touch like we’re 14. Or let the glue do its job. Let’s look at our bodies in the full-length mirror and argue about insecurities. Or how much shipping costs. Let’s commiserate about impending doom. We’ll give everything a label: “Monday underwear”, “married”, “separated but still having sex”. We’ll only step out to find a swing to sit on, one we both fit. Take the cheese off our pizza.
Let’s buy sand from a hardware store and sprinkle it on our sheets so we can find something to complain about. We’ll lay down to remember why we got together in the first place. You can write a sexy poem about me, then delete me out of it. Leave only the part about my big hands. I want the world to know they have an appetite for this.
Christine Donat is a New York writer and artist.