can't find nobody home

tired and lonely from the day
from these restless hours of avoiding thoughts of you
i agree
to keep him company
and we eat dinner
sitting across from one another
on the floor in my living room
dressed only in my cotton pajamas
we share thai take-out
white pails of greasy noodles
heavy as the silences between us
i try not to look him in the eye
i try to be invisible
drunk on cheap wine
and insatiablility
we walk through the neighborhood in the glowing dark
through the steadily melting shifts of ice and snow
and the only time i laugh
laugh out loud
is when i think of something that happened
hours before
and i ignore the fact that we don't really care for one another
that what we really are is
the consequence of proximity
and timing