tigresse/

I wouldn’t trust you with a paperclip,
you’d probably lose that too,
funny thing it is though,
how I haven’t managed to lose you.

Every morning you massage toothpaste all over the sink,
hurriedly replacing your morning stink,
shedding your  hairs across my bed.
I could have gotten a cat, instead
you followed me home.

I make good use of them,
the hairs of course,
I have a collection I roll only on occasions
tobacco is expensive in France,
and no one knows the difference.

I smoke your scents back into the room,
and imagine your silhouette flapping,
excited as the kitchen towel on the line,
this is how I pass the time.

Ashes are powerful remedies,
no one believes Africans when they mourn,
I can relate I’ve kept all of yours safe in a vase
I hide in the closet you’ve sworn to fix,
you hate the scent of the house
“Ça sent le fauve!” you say
you haven’t the slightest clue about how I pass the days.