i live with you.

when i came home today

you were made

of chalk

i could not understand.

you were dusty and white

i could

break

off

your

fingertips

and write all over the walls

how funny would it be to

snap !

your nose off

and make you a sphinx

not to mention my bowling average

would improve eightfold

by simply hugging you

i could hoooooooold and caressssss your cheek

but you would make my hands dry,

ostracized.

and i thought of our lives together then

how a simple rearrangement of atoms

made you so god damned tiring to be with.

ART! that is what i should make you

put you in the garden

watch the birds rest on you

however, the elements consume elements

and (you idiot) became one

i'll keep you in the bedroom then.

but then i thought

how awful the sex must be

with a man made of chalk!

i couldn't think of why you were chalk

i thought you had died

and

(in shock)

i didn't know what to do

or who to call

so i left you in the living room.

i went to work in the morning

hoping that you would

come back to life (like chalk does)

no longer elemental

soak up some water

AT LEAST BECOME CLAY!

but when i came home

you were still

white

and

brittle

and then i really could not understand

why you were made

of chalk.