because life is so perfect

there are these moments too

perfect to be true

like they’re straight out of a movie, something

actors in a well thought out shot would do

leaning over me, a knee

on the soft bed

your hair a cascade

you wake me with a kiss to say goodbye

you’re off to work and will be back by five

your pants are creased and the white shirt’s crisp

a thin belt with a flat matt buckle sits low on your hips

your cheeks are smooth and your finger tips

cold as stone

you smell so good in a heavenly mix

of the shampoo the moisturizer

and the expensive cologne

chin high and a smile on your lips

you pick up your bag and head for the door

your heels clicking on the wooden floorboards

and before you’re gone from view

i’m drifting back to sleep

curled up in the sheets

that still smell of you

i wake up later and the room’s full of light

the day’s well on its way and i hear the bright

muted late-morning sounds from the street outside

and i wonder how long i can take it

for even the coffee and the cigarette

aren’t enough to root the moment

in reality

but then i open the dustbin to throw the used ear buds

and i’m overwhelmed by the nauseatingly mingled smells

of used sanitary napkins and cigarette butts

and i breathe a sigh of relief

for i know poetry

will happen. the cloying spell insipid

is broken. there are these times like frozen frames

when you get all idle and complacent

and anything goes. but for the periods of transit

you’d be dead. life is rarely perfect, and luckily

when it gets close, living ruins it