Memories are a dish best served suppressed.

I woke today and felt good.
I felt really, really good.
I twisted open the blinds and let the day's light pour
in.
I decided that today I would lay my hands to the task of
general cleanliness so
I put on an appropriate soundtrack
and began to dutifully put my life
in all of its "proper" places.

Suddenly-
painfully and without mercy
my mind wandered backward.


Pushing the futon back against the wall
I shooed Rufus, straightened the blanket and folded her robe.
She said, "I'll start in the kitchen,
do you want to get the bathroom?"
(J stands silent as if in the awesome presence of
a heavenly being.
Alice stands in front of the window waiting for him to answer.
Outside is a beautiful Brooklyn blue sky day.
The early afternoon light plays over Alice's delicate features
creating an exaggerated angelic effect.
Children can be heard on a nearby rooftop playground
happily enjoying their period of freedom from stale
surroundings.
The scene is surreal, almost as if the two are frozen in
a sublime and cinematic moment.)
I smiled at her,
"Of course."
She smiled back.
She needn't even ask, I'd kill for her so
a little grime was no egregious obstacle.
I went into the bathroom and
shoved my sponge bearing hands into every crevice which
the place possessed.
I wanted it clean,
I wanted it cleaner than clean.
Beyond clean, I sought immaculate.
Ne'er would her porcelain flesh touch
a single impurity. Not on my watch.
I didn't care if it meant that
each finger would be worn to a twitching mound,
I would see to it that she was surrounded by
perfection.


Remembering this I paused as I held a pair of socks
black and soft in my hands.
Nothing moved, Nothing.
The cat was still, the street was silent,
and I ceased to breathe.

Finishing my task I
picked up my keys and
went to the store to buy vegetables.