UNTITLED ❋ Xan Shian

I’m on the couch
here             and
I’m thinking about the couch in
the summer
you pressed against            me
for hours
the cat
leapt into your lap      probably
a warning
about couches.

I’m remembering that night
we tried to watch Harry Potter
you
hot-wired my parents’ tv
so we could watch the dvd            but
we ended up            not
seeing anything
because you            pressed
and
the            cat was a warning
we didn’t know how to stop

I’ve never been so intoxicated            before
or lost            after
you disappeared
without warning
the cat            was a warning
laid out, a solid line to divide before
and after.

The rhythm of the dryer slinging laundry
punctuates
the Sunday
after Christmas

likewise            I’m restless
raw on the inside from too many
chance encounters
drawn out for            too long

my roommate pads around
in socks
holding the cat over his head
like a trophy

“you want some belly?”

my coffee grows            colder
snow tumbles from the sky
all at once
it’s been saving up for this

when I ask you to walk outside with me
you say no            for the fourteenth time
and I recommit myself
to pretending you don’t
exist

I resolve to stop making excuses for people

specifically you            but there are others too
others
I find myself waking up next to
who say in the moments     between sleep
and
extricating ourselves from the sheets
“but right now isn’t a good time for me,”
and I want to ask
whether I have any say in this too

a truck on the street pulls its air brakes
and            I’m back on the couch
making a little dent
deeper
into the cushions
staring at the wood floor
listening to the creak of the heater
as it compensates            for the cold outside

The cat sits in the window
tucked behind the curtain
staring into a different world
the snow globe of a future            untouched

I think back to the other night when I tried
to articulate
the difference between desire            and intention
how one begets the other
and we find ourselves naked in the morning
more            naked
than we care to admit

“I have walls too, you know”

this is me trying to explain the chasm I find between myself            and everybody else

I want to believe that it’s temporary
but as time passes            it widens
and I wonder
whether it’s become a part of me now
Too.