The couch smells.
And the pillows are
kind of lumpy.
And my nose itches because
we haven’t bothered to evict
the colony of dust bunnies underneath.
And my back hurts
when we flop down after a long day,
and fall asleep without dinner.
Sometimes I’ll wake up, with
pieces of rice stuck to my face
from last week’s takeout night.
But if I put my hand
under the left cushion, I’ll find
the remote, sticky with the
residue of old labels, and the
peanut sauce you spilled on it
while trying poke me with your
chopsticks.
And when I lean back
my head will find the dimple in
the cushion, and settle in
like a marble on a board
of Chinese checkers.
And when you curl up next to me
it feels nice, even though you only want my
Kung Pao chicken
We’re like two matching pieces of
a jigsaw puzzle, shoved together
in the wrong space.
And even though, sometimes,
it kind of sucks,
it’s really not so bad.
