minx

sometimes i forget what its like

to be your friend.

you show up with your short skirt

and your red cardigan,

and your complimentary colors.

you take a drag of your cigarette

and you ask me to help you finish

that one project you

just don't

have the time to do.

and i look at you like i recognize you.

and i speak to you like i know who you are.

and i agree to help you

like my car isn't rusting at the edges

like the hedges

don't need a good pruning,

like the wallpaper isn't peeling

like my shadow hasn't felt

like a heavyweight champion lost

at sea, clutching driftwood

staying adrift,

remaining afloat

until land loses its grey fuzz

and with great luck becomes

a sensible, reliable saviour.

you're like the cat around the corner:

always there but never seen.

maybe i'll leave you

a saucer of milk.

maybe i won't.