You wonder about them, this Monday
morning, up so early going to work
or to school or to the airport?
They don’t speak, they don’t touch,
but they are together, they were
together, her shoes carefully
placed in a corner, his khakis
folded on the chair, everything
prepped for their return to the
voices, documents, social
pirouettes that iron us
flat as tissue paper, that
make our best selves ache.