Do you remember when
 	all that time ago last Sunday
 	you asked to be held
 	in the tension?
 	Said yes, I will stay
 	in the tension,
 	and the wine and pita
 	and big old orange moon
 	were your friends
 	and witnesses?
Well now it’s almost Thursday
 	and you haven’t even looked
 	for the moon all week,
 	much less seen it,
 	and the tension feels lonelier
 	tonight than you remembered
 	and half the power’s out
 	and the mice have found the rice
 	and left a little trail
 	down to the basement.
But even now I suppose
 	it isn’t too late to crack
 	a smile at the whole damn mess,
 	light a candle in the kitchen,
 	sweep up the rice, remember
 	that you asked to be held
 	because you already are,
 	and anyway it’s just
 	three more days now
 	til next Sunday.

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