Break me and watch me fix myself.
There’s a crack in the ceiling,
only thin, you’d easily miss it.
And that light switch’s askew –
but only a bit.
I could write a list
of all that is wrong in this room.
If only to distract,
myself from you.
The deep lines on your face.
Your breath angled at my neck.
A moment more and
done.
A weight is lifted,
the door here, it creaks on worn hinges.
But I am still, eyes upon
a crack in the ceiling.