the days at work slip faster than days at home did
my deepest resources oscar & guitar
of patience

mines of tunneling to sustain self

and small one too

less taxed now, if lonelier
for touch

but we are both content
so far as i can tell
so far as he can tell

my arms more patient

greedy now when he is in them

still time for playing blocks and touching noses

and i exhale

i can forgive that this skin fits

these work clothes please me, yes.

but the wheel of time spins by me

careening almost greasy

it has been four weeks already

i wonder will i come home tomorrow and find him grown into a rockstar overnight…?