House Arrest

The blinds shake and he flings open the door,

“You, I should have known you.”

A former roommate slides past me,

empty sounds, that he’ll be back

in a few days,

with groceries.

Trading places with me, ceding me possession

of the vestibule and life within,

we’ve danced this dance before.

The call of ‘change partners’

with a nod to me or him and a puzzlement

to others.

Where would I be if not here, if not now,

folded into arms that pull me to

the comfy chair

head resting against mine.

We sit, quiet together.

We are very good at being quiet together.

After a long while, I ask if he’d prefer

donuts or muffins.

He replies that he limits himself to

half an espresso per day so

It doesn’t matter,

as long as I come back,

come back soon.

With comfort silence in this cacophony nightmare,

I kiss him, on the mouth, and pinky swear.