The Little Things

Haley Kouba

Heart aching, 
	     I don’t like to cook for you anymore 
   My willow patterned crock-pot cracking 
		      Stuffed full with nutmeg buttered carrots 		
		      Care-crafted meals met with scowls. 

Standing in the room painting, 
                                       Not with you 
   Clay clumps splatter on white sheets 
           Think, I used to make you out in water colors 
Paint smears prettier when I’m on my own. 

You make fun of my freckles. 
            What happened to sunshine kisses? 
   Dirt speckles now, and then 
                          Fire ants on parade 
I never make fun of your dimples.
 
Your lips aren’t pillows when they press on mine 
             Butterscotch kisses burned the sweetest 

   But now it’s only ever 
                                Cherry smoke and vodka 
What do you have to drink about? 

Stop looking 
            Not while I’m in my lavender lace lingerie 
   Firefly fingers don’t belong here 
                        No more amber tinted emotions 
You don’t have the right. 

I don’t listen when you say you love me. 
                        Only imagine 
   The last time it didn’t make me want to cry, 
           Honey-raw voice mixed in chamomile tea. 
Now I know you sound different when you lie.

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