I knew nothing of your troubles,
Parked across the street from the diner,
I clipped my nails into idle half moons,
Waiting for your shift to end.
Your hair is a mess as he kisses you wildly,
He forgets the door, but you don't seem to mind.
We are listening to the same station on the radio,
But the song is muffled by your gorgeous laugh.
The motel is only a block from the park,
Where I dreamt our children might play,
The receptionist was in my gym class in High school,
We chatted earlier today.
I watched your room come to life from the parking lot,
Your foreign movements flickering
Like an unstable screen.
The receptionist's key is stiff and embarrassed,
He slips on his wrapper into a ridiculous stance,
Like a swimwear mannequin completely indifferent
He imagines the fist I protrude is a threat.
Together you watch my half moons,
Sprinkle over your bed sheets
Like rice at the reception of a newly joined love
Awaiting my toast, he begins stuttering nonsense
But I am through with loving this world.