Visitor

I had another lover over last night.
Loneliness.
Knocking on my door, even though he has his own key.
Beneath my silent covers he crawls.
Mummers moist against 
my blue bruised sighs.  I confess salty, soft, sins.
Embrace.
Under stale yellow sheets.
I crumble.
A pale version of light sleep.

Bad Habits?
Overstaying his welcome, snacking on the last hard-boiled egg in the fridge.
Stealing coins from the dryer for  banana ice-cream and balloons.
Never arrives here with out  tag along
Despair.
Who crashes on my sofa keeping vigil of infomercials until two.

The only way to rid the room of him, entice Faith over.
She breezes in
a Swedish lullaby smelling  warm
of chocolate chip cookies.

Sulking in a corner
he stalks.
Slamming the door.

Faith helps me redecorate.  Lights a pillar white candle with a bent match from 
orange overalls.
I remember.
I remember he left
but,
he kept
his key.

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