I fingered the mattress while you were cooking the evening meal
in the kitchen you labored
while I continued searching for victims in the crenelations and mystery
folds
you had 2112 playing too loud
you could not hear my grunts from the other room
I pressed my right index finger into a tight hole
hooking the edge of a metal spring
(I hooted as Japhy Ryder did climbing mountains)
pulling
hard
unspooling
licking my lips in clever anticipation
creating a wire friend
as a waft of lasagna enters the bedroom
