We spent each and every night within the warmth
of each others body.
My hay straw mattress had become
a woven womb to us.
Your activity might have startled me
as you went about your business.
But I soon grew un-accepting
of all the little shit you left.
A pest-free home is the best defense to the common cold,
so it’s off to the hardware store
and I’m sold.
Choosing peanut butter to be your last supper,
instead of a cheesy mold.
I say my “good nights” and begin my flight,
knowing I may wake to a snap.
But a small pool of blood is easier to clean up
than a lifetime of rodent crap!
Flip-back mouse trap reflexes
reflect all that preceded your
urgent need to feed.
Squeezing through cracks and running along window sills
in a relentless search for cheese.
Was it your love that brought you to your knees
and snapped this metal coil across your head?
Well I’m sorry anyway, buddy,
be sure of that.
Now it feels so cold in my bed.
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