Shirt
I think he has the fantasy. That I am home for years. And, the food is always hot, and the beds made and the laundry just so.
But it is him who speaks it aloud. The work I have done, the thoughts, angst, toil, degrees to be me. That it must stand for something, what I have done to become. I would never say so. Not because I am not self-centred enough -- trust me I am plenty self-centred -- #bloginpoint... I don't say so because I am not articulate. I gum it up with blather. Blatherosaur.
But he says it. Cool and smooth. Clear, creaseless and unequivocal. Like the shirt in the closet he irons himself. Better than me.
But it is him who speaks it aloud. The work I have done, the thoughts, angst, toil, degrees to be me. That it must stand for something, what I have done to become. I would never say so. Not because I am not self-centred enough -- trust me I am plenty self-centred -- #bloginpoint... I don't say so because I am not articulate. I gum it up with blather. Blatherosaur.
But he says it. Cool and smooth. Clear, creaseless and unequivocal. Like the shirt in the closet he irons himself. Better than me.
Labels: #thehomeproject
posted by mo-wo at 8:35 p.m.
2 Comments:
i loved this. i was late finding the tag. but it is perfect.
i do not think Dave has that fantasy of me. i think i do. and yet i know it as a fantasy, some version of self conscripted but never understood, a reflection i think is supposed to call my name.
I think I have the fantasy, too, that the food is always hot, and the beds made and the laundry just so.
I need a wife.
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