Читать книгу Exhibitionist - Molly Cross-Blanchard - Страница 12

how he kisses me

goodbye after a dinner

of dry chicken or fish

and some greens

cooked by me.

The way I watch him

from the third-floor window

walk to his car and leave

for the night shift

at Whiskey Dix. Wait

fifteen minutes to be sure

he’s not coming back

for a forgotten wallet

or earpiece. Slip

sweats over pyjama shorts,

slink to 7-Eleven,

slide the cashier a tenner

for a box of KD

and two caramel Klondikes. Say

My nephews love this junk.

Bury the box and wrappers

under tampon applicators

in the bathroom trash, bristle-brush

neon cheese from my teeth.

How he climbs

into bed around three, rolls

onto me and I hope

for one sleepy moment

he can taste the ceremony

still on my tongue.