three in the bed.

my first boyfriend drove away in a yellow van.

he did not sing me love songs

and he could not empty the washing machine.

i think

if he were here now

he would be able to say he loved me.

because now i know

how to ask for what i want

and how to say thank you for it

i know how to let the argument slide

and how to reignite the pilot light.

sometimes i fear the memory of him

sits awkwardly in the room

for now there is always three in the bed.