The tea-cup tragedy in the early fall
The smooth and lingering smell of it
A look back into the hallway comes after the sound in the hallway behind us.
She walks. She walks like a slip slips
into the kitchen.
The milk and the granite counter tops – emitting quiet waves.
The oranges sit in bowls
tasting of Victorian Christmases
(the cold kind).
It would be nice to have a man in the kitchen
To pour the milk over, to lick the milk from.