Image by Dariusz Sankowski from Pixabay
In an alternative history of an alternative universe,
we would have nagged each other to death.
You are so clean and immaculate--
your desk is free of a speck of dust,
pens, files, folders line up as if soldiers in morning drills.
How much your mother must have tidied and washed and scrubbed?
But I'm no match--my activities are mainly mental.
I believe in labor of love;
I believe in keeping up the appearances,
I believe in suffering to satisfy vanities,
but only to an extent.
And this extent is all that matters.