You switched rooms

So you could fit

A double bed at last.

You found a mattress in the alley.

I bought you sheets for Christmas,

Red and soft.

One day I brought my thyroid pills

So I could stay over

Any time.

I never did.

We went to the park

To talk for one
                          last 
                                  time.

I couldn’t say a word.

We had met

A few feet away,

In September.

You said:

This is where we met,

I was reading Wallace then

I am reading Wallace now.

Can we find comfort

In geometrical precision?

I like my circles

Perfectly

Round.