She cleans the fog off the bathroom mirror
And stares at the stranger within
What happened to the shapely siren?
You did. But no, she won’t blame you
And for the record I won’t blame you either
For the dust gathering on my easel
For the party invites I could not attend
For not buying a new sofa set
I gently straighten each of your fingers
So I can release one of mine
From a clench that is surprisingly strong
Seeking comfort and security
How could the blame be yours
When it’s not your fault?
And besides, the truth is that
One gurgle makes up for it all.