I don’t remember what I said out loud, but
He replied, “I’m down with that.”
He’s reading The Hobbit.
A book I always found too dense
He likes it like one of those
War documentaries he always plays but I
With its cover’s corners pulled apart,
Revealing its paper white insides like,
An eye looking up,
Exhales in time with his slow blinks.
The page turns.
He wears his shoes in bed.
That’s why I sit in the chair.