Читать книгу Welcome to Sonnetville, New Jersey - Craig Morgan Teicher - Страница 16

Arguments taint our mouths like spice.

Opening and closing doors, we rhyme.

The house creaks to pass, or mark, the time

under our bare feet, the mortgage like ice

we skate above the bottomless water.

It mustn’t crack; we can’t afford to fall.

I love you like my hands, which haul

the money in. Into our laps spill daughter

and son. We are drowning in wine and beer,

carrying each other across these rooms,

glasses filled above our brims. We consume

ourselves in our big shared bed. Here,

plans overrun our mouths, all synonyms.

You used to be her. I used to be him.