We tired of making the house different from sky
We tired making our selves different from the names we had
We put windows where there should have been doors
I colored my hair blonde
This doesn't look like a Randy
You put on a wig and grew breasts and you said
This doesn't look like a front door
But we both passed through you
One evening the windows were angry
And they broke themselves impossibly
Like glass is always breaking like itself
They had been made glass, you said
The teeth we shattered
Intentionally and the sky, unintentionally
Seemed to be so intentional
Why confuse our homes for display cases
Are they looking at one another
Don't bother then with the other
It's merely an exhibition of struggle
This doesn't look like anyone I know
We tired of saying I'm pretty sure everyone I know is here
We tired of saying listen
We tired of drinking coffee and having breakfast in bed
And in the bedroom on the first floor
We tired of the way things were always becoming serious
We tired of direct speech
We tired of having it literally go over our heads
We tired of embrace
The frustration of arousal,
Of tight pants, baggy pants
We tired of shaving our legs
We exalted in what some called majesty before we realized we
had tired of that too
That it was useless to turn the lights off when we left the
rooms we had long sat in
The kids put away to their beds made in the shape of fists
The animals returned to the forest
We tried of making the necessary adjustments between
objectively and subjectively proper attitudes
And the decency of something to do
Night emptied itself first, then
The crowd gathering around us tired of us
This last idea we had
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