My love 
loves
to work work work
look at graphs
stare at maps

Work work work.

In the middle
in the middle!
of an old bob dylan song,
waiting for the chorus
he was waiting for too long
so he pulled up all his graphs
pulled up data plots
plink
plunk
ploonk.

I don't have a reason to be angry -
cause I left him waiting in the tampon aisle.
When I went out wandering in the store. 
lost 

I found him
wounded like a kitten crushed into the road
because I left him there
absent minded
I am/was/still am
calloused from his indifference.
 
never changing.
heightened over a glass of wine 
precariously
us two at the opposite ends of the kitchen table.

My mind is draped in colors
and his in tapping numbers.
typed out 
lonely
lost
across
the page
like when he left me
once in Walmart too. 

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