Living With A Drunk

life with an alcoholic spouse

his cheeks get fatter somehow

bloated on chipmunk greed

like he’s storing securities

for the coming of snow

and I brace myself for storm

there’s something peppered in his step

soft on intention but hard all the same

on motive and complaints

of commodities and lack thereof

and I extend myself the right to sigh

slippers pad across the hardwood floor

and I wonder how ballerinas tip toe

padded mysteries fat on need

performances yet to see

and I grant myself new certainty