More quickly than we realized, I suppose.
In a corner of my mind, everything was packed and labeled
for the interim
when as if drunkenly, I would wheel about
inevitably questioning what was mine
and what you had given me.
How quietly did I slip out the back door of our life together?
More quietly than we realized, I suppose.
But when did you first hear me in the other room—
looking for the phone book before hiding it again?
I called a cab every night before dinner [instead of washing my hands]
but I left the water running.
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