Tulips everywhere.

A station works nights.

Bulbs snapped between my teeth.

A man in a red coat
called your name
over the loudspeaker.

I kissed the neck
I had written for you.

I made a country
from your pulse.

River at your wrist.
Border beneath your ear.
A checkpoint
where your vein turns blue.

Then I blamed you
for your labor.

You moved your arm.

I woke
in a sweat.

The river left my wrist.

I covered my face.

The room already
belonged to you.

You turned before
I could call.

You knew what I had
under my tongue.

You pulled it out.

It came clean.

It falls into your palm.

Dust settles
on our worn mattress.

Your hair stuck
to her cheek.

My head hanging
over the side of the bed.

Coffee getting cold.

Something forms on it.

You say something.

I hear church bells.

Crickets rasp
in the dark.

Your hand jumps.

Once.

I answer it.

Wrong.

Your hands disappear
into dishwater.

A plate hits the sink.

Sorrysorrysorry.

The water keeps running.

You ask if we need milk.

The parrots come closer.

Their water is fresh.

They do not leave.

I am busy with my teeth.

Her dress is still folded
in white paper.

Something underneath
passes.

Behind you
a country
keeps burning.

You open the cupboard.

Leave it open.

Three cups.
A chipped bowl.
Salt.

The hallway knows
your mornings.

You dry your hands.

You tend the cage.

The flowers face the window.

You cough into your wrist.

A feather sticks
to your skin.

You forgot
where the spoon was.

In the dark I found it.

Under the bed.

Taken apart.

Beside your makeup.

I left it there.

You stand barefoot
in the kitchen.

Sleeve wet
to the elbow.

Soap dried under
your nails.

Someone stands
behind you.

She has your neck.

Or you have hers.

Her hands are dry.

The cupboard shuts
when she walks past.

The parrots go quiet.

You bend down
for the towel.

On the table
a tulip bends
almost to the wood.

Yesterday it was yellow.

Or I remember yellow.

One petal
falls into the sugar.

You pick it out.

Lick the crystals
from your thumb.

Behind you,
she does not move.

The window clouds.

Your bare foot leaves
a pale mark on the tile.

The sound
of my steps.

The tracks beside me.

The station is there
in the window again.

The man in the red coat
is gone.

The loudspeaker keeps
announcing your name.

You are standing beside me.

You ask
what I am looking for.