I sip desserts languid from spoons
in that French restaurant down the block
where you are not stuffing your face
w/ forkfuls of gratin or tucking napkins
all the way up to your chin
the dribbles of prime rib au jus meandering
onto your lap—
or I watch a fire engine’s
siren flash in a puddle on the way home
mixing w/ antifreeze’s acid green which means
somewhere a radiator steams stranding
its motorist who is not you mon amour
it’s me in this metaphor wherefore j’adore
mon gros chat who slothens down the wood-planked
hall of my apartment on the third floor
Ellen Kombiyil is the author of Histories of the Future Perfect (2015) and a micro-chapbook, Avalanche Tunnel (2016). Poems are forthcoming in North American Review, Salt Hill, and the minnesota review. Awards include Academy of American Poets college prize, Nancy Dean Medieval Prize, and the Mary M. Fay Poetry Award.