The Apartment

The Apartment

You like being at my place, and breathing freely
As in open spaces. You wouldn’t want it otherwise.
You escape from normal caged- in life.

You have your own spa, to soak away
The mud they fling at you. The grey table
Your private space to spread your puzzles

And re-assemble broken pieces
Of the morning’s shattering. Our
Small salads, anthologies of communion

Connect minds and hearts, the kitchen
Our place of laughter and sustenance
Where you concoct strange greens

As we flesh out the enigmas that
Pester our daily existences,
As friends are supposed to do,

In my apartment you become
The golden-framed girl with
The fish- smiling, happy, content.