I put you out of my mind,
pretend you do not exist,
sit in the hallway hiding
from your light and from the rays
suggestions that highlit dust
on the carpet, became shapes
where babies might’ve stayed warm
or could be where a cat sat
if we brought ourselves to bring
home such temperamental guests.
For now small mounds of clothing,
a remote, last night’s dishes,
the unclean and forgotten
weekends we waste in darkness.