On Your Own

As a husband
Or wife —
Have you never thought
You might live more easily
Alone

The space around you —
Unstrewn by another
Their pillows, shoes, clothes and bags
Albums, frames, toiletries and chairs —
A thousand scattered things
Gathered — but none of them yours

Have you never longed
To start again — in your own space
As you did, perhaps
Leaving your parents’ home —
A hostel, with just one suitcase
A bedsit, where all was within sight
A flat — tidy, spare and free

Do you not ever question
The upkeep — mowing lawns
Vacuuming, scrubbing
Up and down the stairs —
The endless hours spent
Putting things away
Buying, discarding — week after week —
Sorting, storing, making space
Filling rubbish bins
With things you’d never have
Would never do —
If you lived alone

Do you not wonder
When you planned — why you chose
To share your days and nights
With this person —
Husband, wife, partner —
Their moods, their foods
Their passing fads
Now displayed around you

When did you begin
To expect them to stay —
Sit beside you evenings and weekends
Sleep in a bed — neither theirs nor yours —
Next to you
Shop, wash, clean —
Become a housekeeper
With you

Did you ever truly plan this life —
Want it, wish it
For yourself, for them —
Or did it just happen —
Creeping in like dust
On a still windowsill
Settling quietly
Until you were covered by it

And like that windowsill
If you move, the dust may move too
But then you’ll find
Another room, another space
Where dust begins again
To settle upon you

Or else, you’d keep moving —
Never letting
Anything — or anyone —
Settle
Or creep up on you

And what is gained —
By enduring days and nights
In a space that is yours alone —

When even now
Surrounded and cluttered
You are — and always have been —
In your own skin
On your own