The spaghetti set cemented to the bottom of the pot left
as it was forgotten, the water long absorbed
boiled off becoming the stringed brick of last nights best efforts.
I’d love to tell you it was forgotten amidst the passions of our togetherness that
the red wine overtook us and we scurried into the bedroom while the water bubbled and boiled around the strands but
in truth we simply carried ourselves up the stairs under the covers
falling into the times weary dim.