you shoved your stuffed animals off the mattress,
pulled down a thin brown blanket
and ushered me inside your
cave of a bed.
I checked the time
on the watch
on the wrist
of the hand inside you
and suddenly felt much too old
to be panicking
about the potential echo of parental footsteps
on the front porch.
I'll be careful to extend the cleaner hand.
It's nice to meet you, I'll say,
taking your mother's hand in my own.
Your home is lovely
and so is your daughter.
Gorging myself on fresh bread and butter,
I'll make conversation about the cats.
Thank you for dinner, I'll say,
your daughter is lovely
and so is your home.
I lay naked in your bed
and count the pushpin holes
where your posters used to be.
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