Cocooning

We had gotten to the point in the relationship 

when communication was reduced 

to a series of gropes

mixed with baby-talk 

 

It was a steep transition back to the world; 

streets, right angles, credit cards

sometimes we didn’t make it at all

the world plotted next steps 

 

so compelling was our private world 

we often forgot to code switch

she would be found hugging policeman

teachers, or random angry people 

 

whispering in their ears while 

checking their undies for smellies

I’d spend hours on the phone

discussing romantic particulars 

 

with customer service representatives 

and automated bank tellers

luckily, we could always find our way 

back to her apartment 

 

due to the tenacity

of the faded

mylar rainbow sticker

on her window