I’m thinking about you and you’re humming while cutting a piece of wood.
I’m positive you aren’t thinking about me which is fine as long as you
aren’t thinking about yourself. I know and love the way you inhabit
this house and the occasions we mutually create. But I don’t know
the man you picture when you see yourself walking around
the world inside your head and I’m jealous
of the attention you pay that person
whom I suspect
of being devious.

More Poems by Rae Armantrout