My lover sleeps
in our bed. In the garage, I smash
the cans in the recycling;

I float into our room.

He is a lump
under the covers.
I remember

when he destroyed the porch furniture

with his maul. Each crack opened my eyes.

I pick him up,
and he unravels
into a sheet.

I look out the window.
My lover does push-ups

in the driveway.
He digs a hole
in the yard with his hands.

He slips down the storm drain.
Good riddance, I think
as I tuck myself in.