The Bargain
Did you get what you bargained for
when you took me in,
smelling of river mud and wet dog?
Did you finally find the perfect project
collared and house broken?
I pad through your house,
leave prints on pristine floors,
leave the handle of your faucet
smudged, breadcrumbs litter
the kitchen.
We stand at the basin,
count pills and count pops
of crepitus in our joints.
Am I indistinguishable from the wallpaper,
its faded yellow and roses?
Am I still your sunshine and you,
you, still my moon?
We stand staring at someone
unrecognizable in the mirror,
and the sound of water running
reminds us of our weak bladder.
We speak quietly as the sun sets.
Your words never sharp,
as we curl up together
in front of the blazing hearth.