For two people

You and I spent a lifetime sitting

On parts of stairs untouched by feet

Looking at sunsets spilling into cups

Brimming with tea- never milked 

And always too sweet.

We have spent our years on roads

Pulling the seats bending low

And listened to ceaseless chatter on the radio

With the fiddle of impatient fingertips

The songs always too loud for us to know.

You and I spent weeks planning

Colours of curtains and widths of doors

Huffing up furniture over stairways

And setting up tables on laundry boxes 

Spilling cola on linen, and gravy on the floor.

You and I have walked a lot

Through clots and fevers without much care

On bad backs and failing wills

Buying impulsive bangles, but never earrings

Never having to worry about another incomplete pair.